Xbox 360 & PS3 Eternal Sonata
by Edison Trent
Summary: Finally finished! This is converting cutscenes and battles into words, keeping as many elements same as the original storyline as possible. The first chapter, I took reference from another E.Sonata writer, Ewanlover64.
1. Chapter 1 Raindrop

Disclaimer: I don't owe Eternal Sonata

CHAPTER I

RAINDROPS

Standing with her back to a cliff, the girl made up her mind and closed her eyes.

'I know this is hard for you to accept right now, but someday, someday we'll all meet again, I'm absolutely positive.'

This was the only thing she could say. Blinking back tears she fell backward off the cliff. The wind rushed past her ears as she freefell.

_Thank you, everyone. I know it didn't last very long, but really, this was the best time I've ever had in my life._

This was the end. This life she had lived it straight.

There was no regret.

_If I blow him a kiss, I wonder, will it reach him up there?_

He must be hammering the ground, blaming his unable to do anything for her at the moment. She felt sorry for him, but this was her fate.

_No, I guess it won't._

Her mind stopped here as darkness consumed her...

Four years later.

'Mummy? Why are there waves in the sea?'

Taking her mother's hand, the four-year-old girl asks. Petals from all the little flowers in the flower field take flight in the air, carried by gentle breeze.

'Well, darling. There are waves because of the moon.' Solfège looks down at her small child with love. 'The moon charms the water in the ocean with its beauty and because of the moon is so beautiful, the sea water just can't stay still.'

'Is that true? Really?'

'Really. Don't you feel your heart start fluttering inside of you when you look at the moon?'

'I do!'

The girl notices a puddle as they walk by.

'What about the puddle? Will it make waves when the moon comes out, too?'

Her question is such innocent and direct. Solfège cannot help but admire that. Only children haven't been polluted by the world may ask that.

'No dear, there's not enough water. You need lots and lots of water, like the ocean, before it can make any real waves.'

'Ohh, I see.'

The girl runs over to the puddle and peers inside. Big and round eyes, hair ties in two short braids, her reflection.

'The amount of water is the most important part of creating waves. That can be said about people, as well. There are many things in this world that can charm people's hearts, just like the moon charms the sea.'

Solfège's expression darkens.

'Things like wealth, vanity, status, image and power. People who are drawn to these create waves and the fear in their hearts makes the waves grow bigger, and stronger. The more people there are, the bigger the waves can become. And as the number of people grows, the waves grow bigger and bigger, and that can lead to terrible conflicts.'

Perhaps hearing the serious tone in her mother's voice, the little girl returns to her side. Solfège puts up a nothing-has-happened smile.

'This is probably too hard for you to understand.' She takes her child's hand and continues walking. 'But if something like that ever were to happen in your life, your only choice might be to jump into that sea. Because when you do, those big waves will calm down. It may be difficult at times, but if your try your best, you'll bring joy to all the ones you treasure.'

'Really?' The little girl raises her hand up high, as if to vow to God. 'Okay!'

Solfège continues to take her along.

'Yes, though it's insulting to compare sea water stirred by the beauty of the moon to the ugly waves of human desire.'

October 16, 1849 10:48 PM

Number 12 Place Vendôme

Paris, France

A vase of flowers settled on a table next to the grand piano. The rhythmic tick-tock of the grandfather clock echoed in the richly furnished room.

'He seems to have calmed down, hasn't he doctor? He doesn't look like he's in pain the way he did before.'

Attending the slumber of her younger brother lying in bed, Ludwika Jędrzejewicz said to the doctor besides her. Above the bedside stove laid open a book, whose owner never seemed to be able to continue reading the rest of it.

'It seems as though he must be having a pleasant dream.'

'Yes, well, that would be nice. It would be even better if that means he's headed towards recovery. A full recovery.'

The doctor leaned forward for a closer look at the man's face.

'It's said that people can have the most peaceful dreams just before they pass on.'

He deliberately avoided meeting the woman's face. Ludwika instantly cottoned on his meaning. Pulmonary tuberculosis was a common and deadly infectious disease at that time, with almost no one could escape the fate of death, but as an elder sister it was always natural to pray for the frailest thread of hope for her family member.

'What are you talking about? How can you say that?'

'I apologise. Hopefully, it's just an old wives' tale.'

Ludwika sadly looked at the sleeping face of his younger brother. The once handsome face was already withered by serious illness.

'Frédéric...'

*****

The rippling surface of flowing water transforms the soft light of the morning sun. The beams combine, becoming a spotlight that paints the stage.

On a grassy path, Polka returns from town with a basket in one arm, still fills up by bottles. The wooden sign pointed ahead read 'To Tenuto Village'.

_I guess I took longer than usual._

_Mum's probably worried about me. I'd better get home before it gets dark._

She starts walking up the path, headed home. The flowers awaiting the curtain's rise display faces of bright red and brilliant yellow. They turn their ears to listen to the performance that is about to begin. Accompanied by the gentle rhythm of a babbling brook, the birds being to sing. Meanwhile, a mischievous sea breeze causes a rustling amidst the leaves of the trees, disrupting the concert.

_There are so many people living in Ritardando. Why won't any of them buy from me?_

_And now..._

Saddened, she is pulled from her thoughts by the approach of a small squirrel. She crouches, holding out a hand, smiling, beckoning to it. As if sensing something, the small woodland creature turns around and flees. This discourages her even more.

_I see, I guess you don't want to be touched by me either._

Watching it disappearing into a grove of bushes, Polka recalls what happened earlier on in the town...

'Come and buy some of Tenuto's famous floral powder! It works very well! Please give it a try!'

In the busy market area, Polka proudly presented her product to the town folks. Nearby a lady was selling her cart of flowers, a few young children were having a hard time deciding on where to go next, and a boy of about eight years old reasoning with a teenage boy who seemed to be his older brother.

Despite of all the people around, nearly no one paid the slightest attention to the lone powder seller. A townswoman who came out from a medicine shop noticed the small bottle in Polka's hand.

'Dear, is that floral powder you are holding?'

_She's buying!_

For a moment Polka thought she was finally able to make a deal in the whole week, she displayed her most welcomed smile.

'Yes! It works very well in curing wounds, madam. Would you like to try one?'

'I didn't know people still made that. What with the mineral powder we can get these days, why would I need this stuff?'

The townswoman took out a similar bottle in her shopping bag, showing it to Polka, whose high-lifted spirit gradually faded away at the sight of the golden-yellow powder.

_So this is what she bought in the medicine shop..._

'Now, I don't mean to be rude, honey, but floral powder just isn't useful anymore.'

Disheartened, Polka stood there. That woman perhaps sympathised with her situation rather than being sarcastic that she told the truth, hoping that this young girl would instead sell something more profitable in order to make a living.

_I guess no one around here wants to buy it._

Sighed, Polka was about to try her luck somewhere else when there was a commotion at the bar opposite.

'Hey! What's that for!'

'But I didn't do anything!'

'Who d'you think you're talking to, eh?'

There was noise of glasses shattered, fists sunk into flesh, chairs being knocked down and customers screaming. Other citizens stopped their current activities and looked at the front door when a man was thrown out into the market street, heavy bruises all over his face. He laid motionless as he passed out.

_Oh no...!_

Polka gasped, covering her mouth. People quickly gathered around, pointing, commenting, but no one offered a helping hand. Bars were always the trouble-making place in a city. None would like to be involved.

Polka squeezed her way through the crowd to the unconscious man.

'Are you all right?'

She held her hands over his body. She could feel the gazes and whispers from the people, but she did not care. Under her summoning an orange light appeared in her palms, sparkles began to flow down to the body. The waves of whispering suddenly changed to surprised, and panic. Not before long the man mourned and could sit up again, bewildered. He then noticed the girl knelt down beside him.

'Well? Did that help? Does it feel any better?'

Polka smiled to him, who not only did not give any thanks but on the contrary became very frightened.

'S-stay away from me! Don't touch me!'

The man got up and ran away. All the bystanders quickly got away from her as well, fearfully. Among them a very small boy pointed excitedly at her.

'Wow! Did you see that, mum? She was glowing!'

He tried to walk closer for a better look, but his mother grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

'Come back here, right now! Never go near anyone that glows like that girl did! Do you understand me?'

'But why?'

'Because I said so, that's why! Now come on!'

Alone collapsed in the street, Polka sat there, depressed...

It is a familiar scene. One that has unfolded every morning since the beginning of time. And even now, the daily overture continues, its delicate, perfect balance, never faltering, never changing. In the midst of this joyous orchestration, at the centre of the morning's discordant musical performance, lies a small village, nestled deep in the wood.

The name of the village is Tenuto. It sits atop a hill which overlooks the coastline. In fact, the town is only about four miles from the sea. Tenuto is very lucky in this regard. For the town enjoys a wonderful cool breeze, and a view that is nothing short of amazing. And then, there are the flowers. They seem to blossom almost everywhere in the town. They paint the landscape with colour as far as the eye can see. And they are the reason Tenuto is also known by another name: the 'Village of Flowers'. Under normal circumstances, one might expect to find a bustling shopping district for tourists in a village as beautiful as this one. However, no such shops are to be found. Not here. In fact, the village is quite calm. Almost strangely quiet. It is a place that exudes a peaceful tranquillity. A tranquillity that further its allure, as well as its mystery.

'I'm home.'

Polka enters her home to find her mother Solfège at the stove.

'Welcome back, Polka.' She said to Polka warmly. 'Oh, you must be exhausted. I've made us some nice hot stew.'

Her smile fades as she realises how unhappy her daughter is. Head down, Polka steps towards her mother.

'Mum, do you...'

For a moment Polka wants to keep it inside her heart, but in the end unable to hold it.

'Are you afraid to touch me?'

Solfège instantly knows what has happened.

'You used your magic in Ritardando, didn't you?'

This is not the first time already. A few times before Polka also acted the same way as this one, only that she pretended to be all right and headed back to her room.

'Why does everyone avoid me?'

Apart from discouraged, there was slight hint of anger in Polka's tone. Solfège knows that her daughter never uses harsh words. This sentence has already included her greatest indignation.

'Because, they think they'll get sick if they touch you. Even though it's not true.' Solfège puts a hand on Polka's shoulder. 'I'm living proof that it isn't true. After all, I live with you and I'm fine.'

Polka raised her head, looking at her mother.

'I'm not afraid of dying from the illness, mum. It's just, well, I'm just sad that, no matter what I do, I can't make any friends.'

'Polka...'

'Beat! Run!'

Once laden with loaves of bread, the teenage boy shouts to his young companion as he makes a break for the bakery shop entrance.

'Hold on, Retto! Wait for me!'

The both of them disappear around the corner faster than a blink. By the time the shop owner grabs her broom out of the shop both of them has vanished into the crowd.

'Hey, you! Where are you going with my bread?'

Yet she does not dare investigating further without anyone minding the store. Some other may take the chance to steal more.

'It's those brats again! Maybe I should poison the dough next time!'

Declared defeated, she retreated into her store. The two boys catch their breath from a hiding place – just around the corner.

'Oh boy. That was a close one, Retto.'

'Nah, that was easy.'

'Easy? If that's what you call easy, I'd hate to see hard.'

Retto laughs at the words.

'Don't worry. Come on, let's deliver the bread. I'm sure everybody's getting hungry.'

The two of them start walking down the street, acting as normal as they can. Beat keeps glancing around nervously, but Retto has no problem putting up an innocent look.

'I don't like the rats down there.'

'Come on, what do you expect? I mean, they live in the sewers. There's bound to be a rat or two! And plus, we're carrying fresh-baked bread. You don't have to be a rat to want a bite of this.'

'Well, what do we do if we get attacked?'

'Don't let a few rats get you all freaked out. Hey, I took care of them the last time, didn't I?

'Yeah, I guess.'

'Besides, the people lucky enough to live in houses aren't the only ones who need us to take bread to them.'

The entrance to the sewers is next to the drainage at the foot of the Mandolin Church. The boys head down to the sewers to go deliver the bread. As the name suggests, sewers are wet, damp and moist, ideal for lowly creatures like mice and cockroaches to take shelter from the surface. Yet it is already heaven for street urchins to make this place home. Rumoured to be filthy and dirty, no one dares entering this small system of tunnel maze. Retto and Beat make their way through rotted wooden boards and metal ladders, at the same time being careful not to drop their bread or themselves into the murky water.

At the end of this sewage is a relatively roomy space where some of the orphans live.

'Oi!' Retto call over to them. 'It's us.'

Bouncing along to them is a little girl called Lib.

'Thank you so much!'

'You bet. Don't eat it all at once!'

They wave goodbye and the girl runs off with the bread loaves. Retto and Beat each keeps one for themselves.

'Hey, Retto why is bread so expensive anyway? If it was a little cheaper, we wouldn't have to steal it for people. Do you think the baker lady is just being greedy?'

'Well, you know, Beat. It's not actually the baker lady's fault. The reason the bread is so expensive is the high taxes on it. It's not just bread, either. In Ritardando just about everything you need for everyday life has high taxes on it. That's why there's a lot of kids out there who can't get a decent meal to eat these days.'

'And that's why they need us to help them, right?'

'Yeah. They only thing that's not taxed is mineral powder.'

'Oh, I see. So that's why anybody can get it. Because it's so cheap. I guess the Count of Forte really isn't that bad after all. I mean, at least he keeps the tax on medicine cheap.'

Retto however seems uncertain.

'Besides, you and I have the bread problem pretty much taken care of.'

'Hey, don't get cocky. Be careful what you say, Beat. Come on.'

After a few more drop-off points, Retto and Beat's 'work' of the day is done and returns to their hideout, which is just next to the sewage system at the docks of Ritardando. Being thieves and orphans they never have enough money to rent the cheapest residence in this city. The living environment here is even worse than the sewage, but Retto resolutely refuses to move, in the hope of leaving as much and best as he can to the orphans. Nevertheless he and Beat has put in great effort in making it tidy enough to be called home – at least for now.

'Hey, Retto.' Beat asks as he takes a bit off the half piece of dried meat he shares with Retto. 'Did you notice that magician girl from yesterday wasn't around today?'

'Yeah, you're right.'

'I guess I should've taken a picture of her.'

Retto apparently loses his patient with him.

'Are you still messing around with that stuff? You need to look at things with your own two eyes. You'd see things a whole lot clearer if you didn't look at them through bent glass.'

'That's not what photography's about at all, Retto.' Beat argues back. 'And another thing: it isn't called "bent glass". It's called a lens!'

Retto knows his young companion too well that once on this matter he can never hear the end of it. He changes the subject.

'Still you have to feel sorry for that girl. I guess she won't be around for much longer.'

Beat does not get it. The way Retto puts it is like that girl will soon never come again to the city.

'What? She won't? What are you talking about?'

'Don't you know anything? That girl was able to use magic. And that means she must be sick with some kind of incurable illness. That's how it works. Basically, magic is a side effect of her disease.'

_So that orange light she used back then was magic._

'And it's always fatal?'

'That's right. Yeah, only people who are gonna die soon are able to use magic like that.'

'Oh. I didn't know that.' Beat lowered his head. 'Well, I guess being able to use magic isn't that great after all.'

'No, it's not. You can't use magic powers unless you're really sick. This world's pretty messed up.'

Beat remembers the facial expression of those people at the sight of Polka when she cured the beaten-up man the day before.

'I get it. That's why no one in town wanted to get near her yesterday. They didn't want to catch her illness too.'

'Yeah, that's right. But the disease isn't actually contagious. That's just a rumour somebody started. Most of the time people don't really trust each other. But when it comes to something that they think might hurt them, they'll believe just about everything they hear. And they'll ignore almost anything else that doesn't help them directly.'

Beat makes a disappointed noise. Retto continuous to talk on, to Beat and himself.

'As long as they have food on their table, they don't care if other people out there are starving.'

This situation mirrors theirs.

'And that's why we steal bread to bring them, right?'

Retto thinks very hard on this for a long moment.

_Why is only mineral powder untaxed?_

_I heard that it's very effective in curing, even better than that floral powder._

_But why is it has to be particularly untaxed, while leaving everything else that expensive? It's as if everyone is forced to use it._

_Is the Count behind this? What's his intention?_

_Why am I smelling a trap?_

_Looks like these have to be sorted out, for me, Beat and for those children who count on me!_

'Okay, Beat. We leave first thing in the morning!'

What he receives from Beat is a single word. 'What?'

Tenuto's floral powder is all made from the flowers blossomed in the flower field, just next to Polka's home. There is a harbour town at the foot of a hill that can be seen from the cliff. When night falls, the lights from the town shine like diamonds, and open the hearts of those who gaze upon their illustrious splendour.

The place under the tree on the edge has always been the perfect place for watching the city lights far below, particularly at summer nights with cool breezes coming from the sea.

_Why can't people look at the truth?_

The event at Ritardando is still in Polka's mind, but the peaceful environment makes her feel much better than in the afternoon.

'Polka. There you are. I was wondering where you went when I didn't see you in your room.' Solfège comes up from behind. 'Ritardando certainly is beautiful at night.'

'Do you think so?' Polka does not look back at her mother. 'Somehow, when I think back on it, I get the feeling it was much more beautiful when I was a little girl.'

'Yes, well things always seem nicer in our memories. It's still just as beautiful.'

Solfège decides that it would be better letting Polka recovering her mood for a little longer. After all it is only a short walk from here to home, and she needs not worrying about her daughter's safety.

'You'll have bad dreams if you stay up too late. Don't stay too long.'

Solfège leaves while Polka remains seated. Being a harbour city Ritardando has been prosperous ever since she was born.

_Is Ritardando really the same as it's always been?_

Nocturnal insects are chirping. The gentle brushes of sea waves against cliff climbs up, bringing an extra scent of salty into the night grassy air. Hung on the dark sky the bright moon illuminated the sea surface as a giant mirror.

_Really?_

In her youth she often dreamt of going there, imagining all the extraordinary goods and people in her mind. When has the city become like what she saw today?

'No, it's not. This place used to be much more beautiful.'

The voice is deep and mature, not the one of her mother. Eyes wide, Polka looks around. Standing on her right is a tall gentleman in a long coat and top hat, a pocket watch hung on his waist. Sitting here all alone, she does not hear any footstep of this man coming just then.

'You have a heart that sees the world with open eyes, don't you?'

Looking down at Ritardando, the man says to Polka, who is totally taken aback by this stranger's sudden appearance.

'Wh-who are you? And what are you doing out here this late at night?'

'Everything in the world slowly fades with time.' The man says as though he does not hear what Polka says. 'It is very difficult to remain still, and keep things exactly as they are in just one particular moment. But because everything shifts only a little bit at a time, no one really notices the change.'

*****

11:09 PM

Ludwika continued to sit at beside.

'The things that Frédéric is seeing, is it all really just a dream?' she stood to address the doctor, who kept watch as well. 'The difference between dreams and reality may very well just be relative.'

The doctor turned to Ludwika.

'Oh? And what makes you say that?'

'Well, I don't know. I guess it just came into my mind when I was watching Frédéric's face while he was sleeping.

'That may be more true than we know. Perhaps what Mr. Chopin is experiencing is not a dream. Only the individual can determine what is a dream and what is reality. Just because his eyes are closed that does not necessarily mean he is dreaming. However... if he comes to think that the world he's in on the other side is the true reality then...'

'Then it's possible he may never return to our reality.'

*****

'Wow. So you can use magic powers, too, Frédéric?'

After introducing to each other, Frédéric sits on the edge of the cliff by Polka's side. As the words leave her mouth, Polka instantly realises that she has said something very sensitive.

'But then, that mean you're like me and that you're gonna die soon, too.'

Frédéric does not seem to mind though, as his tone remains calm and normal.

'Yes, you're right. I'm afraid that may very well be true.'

Knowing that this matter does not hurt the feeling of her new acquaintance, Polka decides that it is perhaps okay to dig deeper.

'So, what kind of magic can you use?'

'Well, essentially, any and all kinds of magic. After all, this whole world is in my dream.'

Polka giggles at his words. This world is in _his_ dream?

'You're a strange man, Frédéric.'

If they had not had introduced and talked for a while before she would have concluded that this man is not in his right mind. Yet his gentleman-like appearance and way of talking that she feels that he is not a bad person.

Regarding Polka's reaction, Frédéric seems to have expected this.

'No, it's true. Everything around us is all a part of my dream. Even you are just a product of my imagination.'

Though explaining patiently, Polka senses the persistence in his expression, like a young child trying to convince his mother that he did not steal the candy. She smiles mischievously.

'Okay, then if what you say is true, can you tell what I'm thinking about right now? If we really are inside your dream, then reading my mind should be easy for you.'

Frédéric does not hesitate in speaking out his answer.

'Of course it is. You were thinking that you don't want to use your magical abilities in front of other people anymore. Am I correct?'

For a few seconds Polka looks shocked. Frédérick looks back at the sea, guessing that he has got the right answer.

'I don't blame you for feeling that way. No one likes to be hurt.'

He can feel Polka continues looking at him, maybe calculating how far can she trust him, or whether she should reveal that he has really read her mind, only to find her gets to her feet, smiling actually.

'Frédéric. There's something I'd really like to show you. But it's in the forest. Would you come with me?'

Frédérick does not expect her to change the subject this abrupt.

'You want me to go with you to the forest? You mean, right now?'

'Yes. Because it can only be seen at night.'

_Her voice was sincere, she means it._

_Perhaps I should go with her, maybe that's related to the answer as well._

'Okay, all right then.'

'My home is just over there. I'll inform my mum.'

Polka leads the way ahead while Frédéric follows. Unlike Ritardando there are very few artificial lights in Tenuto. Most of the light source they see comes from other villages' houses, and from the moon. Yet because of this they are all born to be able to see the paths without any problem in dark environment.

'Mum,' Polka opens the door and walks in, finding her mother working on the flower pot. 'I have a friend with me.'

Living in small village, usually the friends they make or visit confines within Tenuto's territory. Sometimes Polka would just bring some other playmates from her neighbourhood to stay the night, therefore Solfege does not find it strange when someone visits them this late.

'This is Frédéric.'

_Frédéric? A male's name?_

Solfège has never heard such name around Tenuto in her whole life. She quickly puts down the flowers and turns around. Her eyes meet the man's face. For a moment or two she looks stunned.

_Why is he here?_

But suddenly realising that Polka is here also she holds down her 'Oh!' in midway. Yet the first half of her utter has already reached Polka's ears.

'What's wrong, mum?'

_Can't let the girl know it yet._

'What?' Solfège quickly gives Polka an assuring smile. 'Oh. It's nothing.'

Frédéric steps forward and bows to Solfège.

'Please pardon the intrusion at such a late hour.'

'Frédéric, was it? You don't look like you're from around here is that right?'

Of course, Frédéric is not even a member of this world. This is a dream world he creates. Discussing it to Polka is one thing, but others may simply consider him nuts.

'Uh, yes. A journey. I've been on a long journey searching for something.'

'I see...'

Solfège understands that her guest may have something that he does not want to say. Everyone has their own secrets, so she asks no more.

'Well, you must have travelled far to get here. Are you hungry? I'm afraid it's only leftovers, but won't you stay for dinner?'

Frédéric is certainly grateful to her hospitality, but he does not feel right giving trouble to others, especially when cooking is such a big job and he has barely known Polka more than an hour.

'Dinner? Oh, I couldn't...'

'My mum's stew is delicious, you should stay and try it!'

Seeing Polka's enthusiastic insist, it will then be impolite if he turns down the offer.

'Well, then, I accept your kind offer.'

'Mum, I'm taking Frédéric to the Forest. Is that okay?'

The 'Forest' Polka talks about is the one at the back of Tenuto, Heaven's Mirror Forest. Forests are seldom safe at night time with all the residents haunt around. Though at the age of fourteen, Polka is still like a little girl in wanting to share what she likes and knows to her friends, and Solfège knows that better than anyone. If she objects then Polka will be very disappointed then?

'Be careful and don't go too far.'

'Thank you mum! Let's go, Frédéric!'

Polka opens the door and gesture Frédéric to go with her. Frédéric raised his hat at Solfège as she closes the door after them.

_He's finally here._

_What will happen to Polka this time?_

Solfège's mind is occupied by questions as she begins to prepare the meal at the stove.

Usually speaking of forests many would immediately link to scariness, insecure and danger, but this does not seem to be applicable to this one. Flowers and plants in this lush forest sparkle and glow, giving the beautiful wooded area an unearthly light, as if guiding and blessing the travellers the correct pathway. The more Frédéric walks, the more he thinks this is the place where fairies or spirits live.

Occasionally there are distant sounds of nocturnal animals, may be owls or crickets, performing the natural concert of Mother Nature. Different from the music he used to play, but they have their own charms to the ears.

At one point on their way which is too dark to go on, Polka stops and allows her retinae to adjust to the level of darkness before moving on. Frédéric waits beside her.

'By the way, the question you asked me earlier, you never told me if I answered it correctly.'

Polka tilts her head.

'Hmm?'

'Of course, this is all a story I've created in my head. So there's no way I could possibly be wrong.'

He taps his chin thoughtfully, believing confidently that Polka is simply trying to avoid being spoken out her thinking, but Polka has already gone on ahead.

'Over there, come on, it's almost time. Hurry, Frédéric!'

Frédéric looks around and discovers that Polka has headed off without him.

'Wait!'

Frédéric catches up with her. The thickness of the forest begins to grow thin along the two sides. The end of the forest leads to an open area, revealing the cloudless night sky. Covering all over the ground in front of them are somewhat purple blossoms.

'These flowers are what I wanted to show you. Look at them. They're about to blossom!'

_Flowers that bloom during night but not the day?_

Frédéric has never heard of such thing before, but nevertheless he follows Polka's eyesight and tries to watch for anything coming up.

Then, slowly, but surely, one of the blossom nearby awakens, unfolding purple petals and letting out a sparkling, brilliant light within the bud. As if dropping a ripple in water, the same kind of lights being to float up into the air. Soon the once desolate land is carpeted by glowing purple and white. The view is spectacular and so mysterious, like all the flowers are blinking at them.

'What... what are they?'

Stunned at such beautiful scene, Frédéric takes a step forward. Ritardando is pretty all right, but it is manmade, artificial. This field, these flowers, are completely born from the earth, yet go even farther.

'They're called Heaven's Mirror. They're like a reflection of the starry sky on the meadows. This is the only place they bloom in the forest. These flowers never bloom during the day. Only at night.'

So that is how the name 'Heaven's Mirror Forest' comes. Flowers being active in the night time is strange enough, blooming altogether at the same time like they have telepathic connection among themselves is even weirder.

'When the sun is up, they stay in their buds. But they're able to absorb sunlight with their leaves. And after night falls, they let out all the light they've stored, when they blossom. It always happens exactly two o'clock in the morning.'

No matter what, this scenery is just too marvellous that Frédéric has not moved his eyes to anything else.

'They're beautiful. Absolutely stunning. It truly is a wondrous light.'

Polka's expression darkens.

'But they're also called Death Lights.'

'Death Lights?'

Frédéric repeats in surprise. The meanings of the two names are polar opposite. One brings hope and joyfulness, the other gives the impression of hell and suffering. These flowers in front of him, are associated with both names?

'The sun brings life, but the dark brings death. And these flowers bloom in darkness. So, darkness is evil, light is good. Whether you want to call them Heaven's Mirror of Death Lights, that's up to you Frédéric. But I guess these days pretty much everyone has taken to calling them Death Lights. Long ago, it was thought they looked like the light that guided people to death, since they blossom the opposite of regular flowers. Even now, a lot of people don't like these flowers. To many, they're still considered a bad omen. That's... how they think of me.'

Frédéric shakes his head and sighs deeply.

'Frédéric, you said before that this whole world is all just a dream you're having. Right? But if this is your dream and you can be so positive that what's happening is just a dream, how can you tell which is the real world, if what you're experiencing in the dream is that realistic to you? And to prove my point, you didn't read my mind earlier.'

Frédéric is highly surprised.

'Uh?'

'You were wrong. I was thinking about leaving Tenuto. I want to go out into the world, and live my own life. Even if that life only exists inside your dream. I don't know how much time I have left to live, but I want to live what's left of my life in a positive way, brining happiness to others. I just want to help people somehow.'

Polka turns away from Frédéric, looking back at the flowers.

'Like these flowers. Even though people call them Death Lights, they still blossom and struggle to live on.'

'You're going to leave the village. But where do you intend to go after you leave Tenuto?'

'I'll go to Forte Castle. And then I'm going to meet with the Count. To ask about the taxes on floral powder. Because right now, they're hurting everyone in the village. You know, you should be happy you couldn't read my mind. Since you can't use magic, it means you don't have an incurable illness.'

This is a downright lie to Frédéric. It is a dream, alright, but he is sure that he knows it, and is suffering from tuberculosis at Paris, on his bed. In this world, in his setting, anyone having fatal disease can access the power of magic, same as him.

_But how come I couldn't read her mind?_

'Please, stay at my house tonight. I'll tell my mom you're coming. You're a guest in our dream world, after all. That's not something that happens every day.

Polka walks away, giggling, apparently does not take his word of his dream seriously. Watching her back, Frédéric contemplates what he just heard.

_A flower that resembles you..._

_A bad omen, Death Lights..._

Ritardando is still asleep in the morning mist. Most shops are still not open yet, but two small figures are already set for the pathway into the wood.

'Okay, you gotta watch yourself, Beat. It's not gonna be the same as the rats in the sewers.'

Retto reminds his young 'brother'. This is the first time they are leaving Ritardando to take on some real challenge other than stealing.

'I know. Don't worry, I'll take some good pictures.'

Seeing Beat proudly pulls up his camera, Retto is fed up.

'Pictures? Come on, don't waste time on that stuff. You need to help me fight if we face something bad.'

'Hey, that's not nice. Don't say things like that! Taking pictures isn't a waste of time.'

Even though putting up a fierce look, that really does not look any terrifying in the face of an eight-year-old boy. Beat is small, but he is not stranger in fighting, and Retto needs him. It is no point arguing before they have even set out.

'Fine, fine. You can tell me all about it later. Come on, let's get moving.'

The journey to Forte Castle should not take more than a couple of days. All they bring along with them is some bread, biscuits, dried meat and food that needs not to be cooked, a lamp for illuminating at night, a knife, a small tent and their musical instruments. Retto has a violin, and the one Beat has is a clarinet. Though the two of them steals for other children, Retto makes it clear that he never eats anything that he does not paid for. The only income they get is to perform music in Ritardando.

As earlier as Retto can remember, he was already without parents, abandoned in a street in Ritardando. Back then a few kind-hearted citizens brought him to the Mandolin Church. At the age of 11 another boy of three was also sent here, orphaned when his father passed away. All his possession was a camera. The priests adopted them, gave them food and taught them to read. To them, the church had been school, playground and home.

Five years later Retto decided that he and Beat must repay the church, plus the fact they could never stay there always relying on others. Those days they played music for the hymn sing chorus came in handy as they served as music performers in bars and restaurants. The income was not high, but was at least enough for them to live alone. But everything changed when mineral powder was available in the local medicine shops. Everything essential for living, above all food, was suddenly ridiculously taxed. In one night the living of standard soared far higher than the locals could afford. Not to say renting a hut, merely buying food had already drained up almost all their money. Without any choice Retto and Beat had to move out and live in where they are now.

The common citizens are suffering, while those in wealth and power turn their eyes and ears away from the pleas. Each time at the thought of this, unbearable anger and grievance well up inside him.

There are wooden plates covering the entire route along with railings across bridges, so the journey is not as muddy or tiring as they have predicted. Being a small child Beat has to rest more often to recover his energy, and Retto waits for him every time. He looks up to observe the weather and the time, which can be roughly estimated by the sun's position, but what he sees through the shade is not azure but white-grey.

'If we don't hurry, we're gonna get caught in the rain.'

He makes a gesture at Beat to get up, who refuses.

'So what? We can handle a little rain. I mean, the hideout's roof leaks like crazy. And that's just when it drizzles.'

The sewers they dwell in are always wet with water, no matter in summer or winter. Whenever it rains their place sometimes turn into a small pond where the water level can reach their knees. This is when they have to spend their nights on large crates until all the water is gone. The weather right now does not worth being compared to those bitter times. Despite his youth and innocent, Beat can pinpoint the truth where others are not aware of, sometimes.

'Yeah, you got a point there.'

*****

**Prélude Op. 28: No. 15**

**Raindrops**

George Sand. It is impossible to tell the story of Chopin's life without the mention of this woman.

George Sand was an extremely famous author in Paris who had already published numerous books.

Her real name was Aurore Dudevant, George Sand was her pseudonym.

From 1838, Chopin would share his life with her for a long period, but... when they first met, he commented to a friend. 'Is that really a woman?'

Sand was a somewhat masculine woman who wore pants and smoked cigars in public.

Even her pseudonym, 'George Sand' was masculine.

She was unsaved by society's mores and expressed herself unabashedly.

The romance novels she wrote were extremely popular.

Of course, Chopin himself was also famous as a pianist in Paris by this time.

The relationship between the genius pianist and the popular author must surely have been the talk of the town.

At the time, Chopin was not in the best of health, and perhaps attention paid to them by society aggravated his condition.

During this time, Sand took Chopin to the Spanish island of Mallorca to allow him to rest.

To avoid attention, they left Paris separately and rendezvous at a village near the border.

They found a place to live on Mallorca, and Chopin lived a happy life amongst the palm trees, orange trees, and pomegranates.

Chopin's health appeared to be improving, but the island entered its rainy season and the warm weather vanished.

Chopin caught a cold that eventually lead to a relapse of tuberculosis symptoms.

At the time, tuberculosis was a terminal illness, and Chopin and Sand's landlord evicted them, fearing contagion.

After being forced from their home in 1839, Chopin and Sand arrived at the Valldemossa monastery.

And rain continued to fall outside.

The sound of falling rain continued incessantly, the simple sound of raindrops blended together to form a dreary rhythm.

It was under these circumstances that this song is said to have been born in a room in Valldemossa.

A work created by Chopin at age twenty-nine.

The journey to find rest ironically resulted in the worsening of Chopin's health.

But George Sand devotedly stayed by Chopin's side, never fearing infection.

There is little doubt that she was an invaluable source of comfort for Chopin.

*****

Water droplets begin to slip through the shade down to the ground, some land on Polka's head.

'Looks like it's finally started raining.'

Frédéric however looks unconcerned at his coat getting wet, and looks around.

'You know, the rain makes the plants look even more alive.'

'That's very true. For Tenuto's flowers, the rain is a blessing from heaven.'

But this is not the time to appreciate the trees and flowers. The rain may get heavy pretty soon.

'We should get out of this rain. Is there someplace around here where we can take shelter?'

Polka has been a resident around for long. Frédéric thinks she may be familiar with this forest, only to see she lowers her head embarrassedly.

'Hmm... I don't know.'

Now this will be a problem. If their clothes get all wet they will catch a cold easily in this weather, and thus delaying their journey to Forte. While wondering where to hide, Polka's ears distinguishes footsteps approaching among the rain.

'Hold on a second! Someone's coming!'

Frédéric turns to the direction the sounds are made, fingers wrapped around his wand. It may be just another traveller like the two of them, but being cautious is never wrong.

A man comes out from behind the curtain of trees, and notices them.

'Oh! Why, hello there. Are you two out looking for something in this wretched weather?'

He is wearing something like royal guard armours and a monocle on his right eye. Mounted on his back is a long arc thing with a handle. Frédéric and Polka says nothing.

'I am looking for something myself. But I'm learning that it's not such an easy task when it's pouring down rain like this.'

His speech takes on a sinister tone as he beckons to them.

'Perhaps you wouldn't mind providing me with entertainment to ease my frustration?'

Anger and vigilance rises in Frédéric's heart. What does this man means by 'entertainment'?

'What!?'

'I really do hate it when my clothes get wet, and here I find the two of you just as I was starting to get irritated!' The man cracks into an evil grin. There is hungriness all over his face. 'I can't stand the smell of this forest, the trees, plants and animals, and the sweat coming from the two of you!'

There is a flash of metallic reflection. The next second he has a long katana in his right hand, and charges at Polka.

'Ahh! Stop! What are you doing?'

Unarmed, Polka runs for her life. Frédéric's rage explodes.

'You bastard!'

He quickly draws out his wand, placing it in front of him pointing at the attacker, who leaps a big stride forward and grabs Polka's shoulder. He places the katana threateningly at her neck.

'Drop your weapon!'

Frédéric looks from the man to Polka, guilty at his uselessness, furious at the man's despicable way of fighting – aiming at the easy target of a young girl, using her as the hostage and his shield.

'I said drop it!'

The man moves the katana a few inches closer to Polka's neck. Red droplets immediately drip down, her eyes full of fright.

_He is not bluffing! He will really do it!_

It is starting to get thunders. Stormy rain is showering upon the tensed atmosphere. The only thing he can do now is to get Polka out of the immediate danger. Having no other choice Frédéric releases his wand to the ground.

'Now free her!'

The man's mouth twists into a cunning smirk.

'As you wish!'

He turns the katana blade-side-ridge and knocks hard onto Polka's neck. Unable to withstand such blow she falls facedown hard onto the ground, apparently unconscious.

'POLKA!'

Frédéric is so angry that he wants to give this brutal being nothing but pain. He dives for the dropped wand and quickly regains his balance, but the man is a step ahead. The time Frédéric has the man back in focus he has his katana placed at his left waist, at a striking position of a Japanese samurai.

'Farewell! _J'accuse_!'

Frédéric has no idea what has happened, and it is almost less than a blink. He is not even sure whether the man has swung the katana at all, but rushing to him is an arc blade which seems to be made of air, travelling in a speed as fast as bullets.

_If it cuts through me I'll be sliced into two!_

There is no time to think. Frédéric concentrates his magic into the wand, and performs the only move he can reflectively command his body to act.

'_Coup de Grâce_!'

The tip of his wand gets in contact with the air blade, resulting in a thunderous explosion. The force is so strong that it sends his whole body backward to a tree. The last thing he can feel is a sharp pain on his backbone...

*****

11:23 PM

Ludwika stared out the window into the night.

The similar storm has been happening for the past fourteen minutes. Rain hit the window and streaked down, each time creating a new pattern.

'Finally. It looks as though the thunder storm has passed.'

She turns and heads back to the bedside to join the doctor in his vigil.

'How is Frédéric's condition?'

'Better. He appears to have settled down somewhat. Just like the weather outside.'

Ludwika was relieved at this.

'I hope he's all right.'

'His violent spasms have stopped for the time being. I think he's all right for now. He looks peaceful again.'

'Perhaps he was startled by the lightning,' suggests Ludwika. 'Maybe that's what caused his seizure.'

The doctor was not too certain however.

'Yes, madam, that may very well be true. But I have a suspicion that that wasn't the only cause. I think tonight will be crucial to his recovery.'

*****

After the storm the forest seems even more colourful than before. The sky is a deep blue dotted with puffy white clouds. All seems peaceful yet again.

'Looks like all that rain and lightning have stopped. Thank goodness.'

Beat cautiously steps out into the path, nervously, as if expecting the storm may come back any minute. Retto apparently finds that pretty amusing.

'Hey Beat. Did I see you shaking back there?'

During the worst part of the storm, without anywhere to take shelter Retto and Beat used their tent to cover themselves at the root of a tree. Each time a thunder stroke Beat just curled himself up in his knees, whimpering.

'What? N-no way!' Beat blushes. 'I wasn't shaking!'

'Oh? Really? You were hanging on to your camera for dear life, weren't you?'

'Let's just hurry up and get out of here, okay?'

Beat thinks the best thing to get him out of this situation is to change the subject. He looks around, and notices something in the air.

'Look! There is smoke over there.'

Retto follows where Beat points at. It is not the coral dark one that when a fire breaks out but is white.

'That means we're near a village. Let's have a look.'

Retto and Beat go towards the position of the smoke, and soon reaches the exit of the forest. At an open area they find the path leading uphill. A sign above which looks like made of vine reads 'Agogo Village'.

Both boys go up the slope and find themselves facing a twin set of picturesque cottages that appears to have grown out of the surrounding landscape. Vines climb the sides of the living houses that are made hollow out of trees. Little white flowers growing along them give the impression of a decorated exterior since there is not much in the way of manmade design. At the bases were untrimmed bushes and the many trees that have been permitted residence in the natural little village. Throughout the place there are plenty wooden statues of faces and animals, like the handcrafts of some ancient tribes. There is even a small stream running through the place.

'Oh, terrific,' Retto grumbles. 'It finally stops raining, so of course now we find a house.'

'Hey, I think I see someone over there.'

Beat points to a small figure wandering around the property, seemingly gathering firewood. Not waiting for Retto's instruction he approaches the figure.

'Hello, there! Do you live in this house?'

'Yes, I do.' The speaker is a little girl of about Beat's age, with layered lilac hair in an exotically patterned sundress. 'My name is March. Nice to meet you. My sister and I are the guardians of this forest.'

She speaks in a very polite and mature manner that does not match with her young appearance. Retto notices her ears being pointy.

'If you don't mind may I ask, how old are you?'

'Actually, my sister and I are born through the power of trees here. We take a different form each life time, and for this one, I'm now eight.'

_So she's not exactly human. She's like a spirit or fairy._

'Then, it's just the two of you?' Retto asks. 'Alone? All the way out here? Must be tough.'

'Not at all. I suppose it is dangerous sometimes, but my sister always manages to take care of things. Lately, though, I must admit I've been surprised at how many guests have been showing up around the forest.'

There is a squeak of a door swinging open on its hinges behind. March turns around and notices who just leaves her house. Standing at the doorway is a teenage girl.

'Oh, are you awake already? You know, you could have stayed in bed longer if you wanted to.'

The girl looks a little bewildered.

'Where... where am I?'

'You were found lying unconscious at the upper entrance of the forest. The agogos came to me and told me where I could find you.' March gives her a gentle smile to make her feel secure. 'I think your friend is out taking a walk somewhere nearby. He kept mumbling to himself, something about trying to find inspiration for his music. Oh by the way, it was him who healed you.'

As if being thunder struck, Polka feels her neck where the cut is made – it is completely gone without any scar.

Retto at first guesses that 'agogo' is the name of this village, but in March's words it seems something else – something alive.

'Uh. Excuse me, but what are "agogos"?'

March looks like she does not understand the question very well.

'They're, hmm,' she gestures her hands in a ball shape. 'Well, they're round creatures.'

'Round creatures?' repeats Beat, mimicking her gesture with his hands.

'Anyway, they don't approach human beings. And recently, the agogos haven't been showing themselves at all.' March turns to Polka. 'You're a very lucky person. It's quite unusual for agogos to take a liking to a human. In fact, I still can't believe they came to me about rescuing a human being at all. This is the first time anything like that's ever happened.'

The girl lowers her head, suddenly looking uncomfortable and even more confused than before.

'So the agogos rescued me? Even though... even though I'm...'

There is even guilt in her face. March is worried by her expression. Does this girl feel bad about being saved?

'I think maybe you should get some rest right now. I'll fix you something warm to eat.'

She is about to walk to the door but pauses midway.

'Oh, I'm sorry I just realised. I don't even know your name.'

'Who, me?' The girl utters. 'Well I'm...'

'You're Polka, right?'

Polka's heart almost leaps out at her name being mentioned out loud. She should be a complete stranger in this village!

'What?'

She turns around to find the one that knows her by her name is a teenage boy around the age of hers. Seeing her does not deny it he elaborates.

'You sell floral powder in Ritardando. Yeah. I heard someone say your name once.'

'Oh yeah!' Beat gives Polka a thumb up. 'And that magic you used was really great, too!'

The two boys look at each other, looking very satisfied by their knowing it all. Polka however beings to step away from them, suspicion and cautiousness shown in her eyes. They smiles fade away quickly at this.

'Hey, Polka, what's the matter?'

Ignoring Retto's call, Polka turns and runs away down a path.

'Why'd she run off like that?' Beat looks until her shadow disappears round the corner, worrying whether he and Retto have offended the girl in any way. 'Did we say something wrong?'

_Magic._

_They only know what I can do, not for who I am!_

It is alright for Frédéric to know about her magical powers, because he is also suffering from the same fate as hers. However those two boys are merely strangers. Will they ever care to get to know her? Her, the sick, contagious outcast?

_No, they won't!_

So she runs, barely aware of where she is going, letting her feet take her where they will. The trees blurs past her, their branches not daring to reach out to stop her.

Approaching from the same path in front of her is a man in long coat and top hat, carrying a basket of fruits.

'Oh, Polka, you're up. I've picked a snack for us...'

He has barely finishes when Polka breezes right past, almost knocking him to the side. Looking back towards her, confused, he then notices March and two other boys near the house.

'Did something happen?'

'She really shouldn't be running around like that. She's only just recovering.' March remembers the cut on Polka's neck when she saw her in the forest. 'But the path doesn't go very far off. So at least she shouldn't get lost...'

Just then there is a scream in the distance – a girl's voice from the path Frédéric comes back. Retto is alarmed.

'That's Polka! Beat?'

'Right, Retto!'

The two boys take out their instruments and begin to disassemble them. As March wonders why they bother playing music at such moment, the violin and the clarinet have become a single-handed sword and a hooked rifle.

'I'm going too!'

Retto and Beat looks at Frédéric, wearing a calculating expression. March is not certain about his decision.

'Wait! You still haven't recovered yet!'

'I'm not going to stay here doing nothing! I've promised her mother to take care of her!'

Time is running out. The more they talk here the more Polka will be in danger. Frédéric, Retto and Beat set out for the rescue.

Polka gasps at what comes at her.

The monster is so abnormally large that it is a lot harder to miss than Frédéric has been. Twelve feet tall, its skin is a dull, turquoise blue, its great broad body like an oversized reptile. It is holding a huge wooden club. Polka's breath leaves her as she feels her blood freezes.

This is when three people run from behind to her. Each has their arms spread out to offer as much protection for her.

'Polka', asks Beat, 'are you okay?'

She cannot find her voice to answer, and so only nods. At least she is not alone now. Retto looks over his shoulder at Frédéric.

'Are you sure you're okay?'

There is a thread of scepticism in his gaze, which is not without reason. Fighting is no place for flaunting, and March just said he is also a patient as Polka is.

'I'll be fine.' There is a look of determination in his features. 'Don't worry about me. Right now, we have to concentrate on keeping it away from Polka!'

With a ferocious roar, the ogre has already raised its club in his right hand – as thick as a tree trunk – down towards Polka, who screams and dives out of the way just in time, falls down as she loses her balance. The club crushes into the earth, as the huge amount of kinetic energy gathers as the centre, spreads outward and instantly cracks the ground within a considerable radius. Witnessing such damage in just a blow from the monster, Retto and Beat gasped in fear.

In another second it has withdrawn its club from the ground, roaring at Polka, paralyzed by scariness, too weak to get up.

'Polka! Beat, shoot it!'

Retto shouts at Beat. With an opponent that big even his sword may not work. Long range attack may be more useful.

Beat loads four large bullets into his riffle.

'Take this!'

Trigger pulled, fire emits from the muzzle. The four shots are fired consecutively. The built-up recoil even knocks Beat backward. Following a deafening roar of pain, Retto raised his head to see that there are four trails of what seems to be ogre blood streaming down from its chest.

_Did we do it?_

Next moment, instead of collapsing, the ogre gives out the angriest roar they have ever heard of. It gives up Polka and marches towards the smallest and weakest target, who provokes it the most.

'Retto! Help!'

Beat retreats backward and reloads at the same time, but unfortunately he is too little to be like an annoying bug in the eyes of the ogre. Its one stride has already made up for all the way Beat has run back.

'Beat!'

Retto chases as fast as he can to the ogre's back. If he does not distract it Beat will be crushed to death alive. He raised his sword high.

'Guide thee ignorant eyes, blazing sword of the sun! _Sun Slash_!'

Consecutively wielding his sword, Retto slashes at the ogre's bottom. _Sun Slash_ is his proudest and most proficient skill he has been practicing ever since he has made his violin-sword. It consists of five diagonal cuts, follows by a final, strong turning chop.

As it turns out, though gashes appear on the ogre's body, they are too weak to hurt its inner organs. Retto grits his teeth. He has saved Beat, but now the problem has been handed to him.

_What should we do now?_

Another sledge from the giant club. Retto knows that he can never take it with his sword, or else not only it will be knocked into two but he will also lose his head. He has no other choice but to jump aside. As if anticipated it, the ogre does not withdraw its club and actually raised its left arm, fingers curled up. Along with incisive wind the iron-hard fist charges towards the now defenceless Retto.

–_No!_

'LOOK OUT!'

Beat shouts in horror. Polka shields her eyes with her hands. Retto can do nothing but to watch the fist descends to him...

BOOM!

But the sound does not like broken bones. Retto gingerly opens one eye. It is stopped by something between him and the ogre.

Frédéric is holding somewhat a wand in his right hand, its tip disappears into the ogre's finger bone!

'Bow down before me!'

As Frédéric concentrates his magic into his wand, its body begins to emit a blue holy light.

'_Coup de Grâce_!'

There is a blinding flash of light. Retto reflectively shuts his eyes tight. By the time he opens them again, the ogre's fist, up until its left lower arm, is all gone. The ogre staggers as it notices its lost limb on the ground, then to its wound with body fluid and blood cascading like fountain, unmistakable shock and disbelief written all over its face.

This happens to Retto, Beat and Polka also.

As if realising its moribundity, the ogre frantically waves the club at Frédéric, only to see him dodges every blow with the slightest effort, sleek and smooth, without any redundant movement. The ogre conjures all its remaining force on its only arm for the desperate chop, but Frédéric merely raised his wand-arm above his head and blocks it dead still. Frédéric looks into the ogre's eyes. Below his feet a circular figure appears, its marking glowing.

'Ye who lives among mists and tempests, and travel by riding the wind, answer my call!'

An eye-blinding light abruptly concentrates around the ground the ogre is standing. Frédéric slashes the wand outward in an arc, the ogre is thrown backward, balance lost.

'_Orzeł Biały_!'

Like a long asleep volcano awakens, a blazing pillar of white energy burst up from the ground, engulfing the entire ogre. Beat can have sworn that he sees a white eagle spreads its broad wings soaring up high into the sky. After the light disappears the ogre is nowhere to be seen, only a few angelic-white feathers slowly floats down, as if the monument for it.

Frédéric lowers his wand and adjusts his hat.

_This is my dream, and you dared turning your fangs at me?_

'Go back, back to a nebulous dream.'

There is not a single drop of sweat on his face, and his clothes are still as tidy as before. Retto gets to his feet to Frédéric.

'You... can use magic?'

His expression is a mix of surprise and admiration. Frédéric can see that the young man has never expected a patient in this kind of gentleman clothing turns out to be a fighter, with magical power.

'That's not a big deal. How's Polka?'

'She's over here.'

Beat waves at them besides her, who has dropped to her knees onto the ground, taking steady breath. Frédéric and Retto join them.

'Did you get hurt?' Retto asks.

'No, I'm all right.' Polka answers quietly without looking at him. 'Thank you.'

'Thank goodness you're all right...' Frédéric's attention however is suddenly stolen away by something behind Polka. 'Wh-what is that thing?'

Everyone follows his gaze. Heading towards them is a tiny round white thing, bouncing along the ground, each time ringing out little musical notes. As it gets closer, it glows brightly, but it cannot be a firefly, because it always comes out only during night time.

Retto remembers what March has said about a round creature.

'I bet it's one of those agogos that girl was talking about before.'

'It's kind of weird. Look, Retto, it's glowing.'

Beat quirks his head, obviously curious about it. Polka is enraptured by the cute creature.

'Agogo, thank you for saving me.'

She bows to it, which bobs up and down in response, as if saying 'you're welcome.'

'I've never seen one of those before.' Beat continues to stare at it with great interest, then suddenly has an idea. 'Oh, I know! I'll take a picture of it.'

He attempts to take out his camera, but the agogo quickly vanishes in a puff of vapour on the spot. Polka looks around.

'Where did it go?'

'Great job, Beat. You scared it off by taking out that stupid think out!' Retto snaps. 'I wish I could've touched it.'

Beat certainly does not want it to happen, but it is undeniable that this is caused by him.

'I'm sorry, Retto.'

There is a very embarrassed silence. Polka takes pity on the young boy.

'So, your name is Beat? Agogos are probably very shy creatures. I'm sure it'll come out again.'

She gives him a very warm smile, then turns to Retto.

'And I take your name is Retto? Is that short for something else?'

'I'm Allegretto,' he says. 'I have a little store in Ritardando. It's small, but we have a tough time keeping stuff in stock each day.'

Allegretto does not even blink as he fluently invents the most blatant lie he can think of. Beat giggles under his breath, hands covering his mouth tight not to laugh out loud. Frédéric and Polka, having not a single clue about this, merely stares at him, baffled.

'Anyway, enough about me. What's a powder seller like you doing way out here? Are you headed somewhere?'

'I...' Polka utters, mind flies back to two days before...

'Mum. I am going to see the Count at Forte Castle!'

Standing apart a few feet apart, Polka was having a row with her mother. There was a strength in her voice, a passion in her posture that made Solfège knew that she was being serious.

Solfège did not give in that easily.

'Now is not the time to discuss this! We have a guest in the house.'

'I told you the reason floral powder isn't selling is because people can buy mineral powder so cheaply. I'm sure he'll understand if I talk to him.'

Solfège was highly impatient with this. Did this girl have an idea who she was going to face? Even if she got an audience with the Count, did she believe she could actually achieve anything? Did she think the Count was really ignorant of Ritardando's situation? A teenage girl's plea would do nothing!

'Polka dear, don't be foolish! You can't possibly go all the way to the castle in Forte by yourself.'

This was the best Solfège could think of to stop Polka, who looked betrayed by her mother's objection.

'I've already made up my mind! Don't try to stop me!'

'Polka!'

The unfruitful negotiation came to an end by her running back to her room and slamming the door.

'Dear, it's not important if floral powder doesn't sell! We'll survive somehow.'

Solfège attempted to listen for any sound near the door. All she got was silence.

'Polka, are you listening?'

_There's no way she can't hear me in her room._

_Why can't she hear reason?_

'Polka, please! Answer me...!'

'Polka! Are you listening?'

'Oh, yes.' Polka's mind is pulled back to the Agogo Forest. 'I... I am on my way to Forte.'

The party decides that reporting what happened to March is the best thing to do for the moment. The well-mannered guardian invites them to sit and have some tea. Frédéric, Allegretto and Beat take the chance to know each other.

'That's a pretty long name.' Beat says. 'Could you say it one more time?'

'Frédéric François Chopin.' The musician repeats it slowly and clearly. 'But, you can just call me Frédéric.'

'Frédéric? Okay. No problem. I'm really good at remembering people's names.'

'You said you're going to Forte.' March says to Polka. 'Do you mean Forte Castle?'

'Yes, I do.'

'You should know that Forte is not a very friendly place right now. It's much nicer here in Agogo Forest. The Count of Forte Castle is responsible for mining Mt. Rock. He's been making some kind of... "medicine".'

Distinguishing March's deliberate accent on the last word, Allegretto knows it must mean more than its literal meaning. Knowing the answer, Beat pops up.

'Ahh, you mean mineral powder, right?'

'Yes. My sister, Salsa, is on her way there right now. She's going to ask them to stop the mining.'

_That means Salsa is the other gurdian of this forest._

'I get it.' Allegretto says. 'And you stayed behind here to keep watch on things.'

March nods.

'If someone doesn't do something, the agogos are going to lose their home.'

Polka is greatly saddened by this, as it was the agogos who saved her.

'That's terrible. I was actually gonna ask them to reduce the amount of mineral powder they are selling.'

March is delighted at having someone sharing the similar task her sister is doing.

'Then this is perfect! I hope I'm not asking too much of you, but if you could possibly do me this favour...'

She heads into a back room for a while, rummaging for something, then returns with a wide-brimmed black hat with gold trim.

'Here. If you happen to meet my sister in Forte, could you give her this hat?'

Allegretto however is puzzled.

'But how? I mean, we don't even know what your sister look like.'

'That won't be a problem at all. You see, we're twins. So, just look for someone who looks exactly like me.'

'Gotcha.' Allgretto takes the hat from March. 'All right, then, I think we can handle that. Come on, let's get moving, Polka. We can go together.'

This is the first time someone outside Tenuto using the word 'together' on her.

'What? Going to Forte together? But I...'

_I'm ill, I have terminal illness, how can I ever..._

'Yes, good idea.' March agrees with his suggestion. 'I think that would be much better.'

'We're heading to the same place. We should stick together, right?'

'Besides,' Beat urges, 'if you collapse again, the agogos might not be there to rescue you next time.'

_Go together...?_

'Polka, please! Answer me!'

Solfège did not call again, perhaps surrendered at the moment. Polka walked over to her window, every word from her mother echoing in her head.

_Mum. I'm sorry._

_The truth is, this is about more than just the floral powder._

_I don't have long to live, so I want to do something meaningful with that time!_

_I think meeting Frederic helped me realize what I really want to do with my life._

_I don't have much time. But I want to use my power for good somehow. I want to help as many people as I can before it's too late._

_I'm not going to worry about what other people think! If they're scared of getting sick and they want to stay away from me, that's fine._

_Up until now, every stranger has been my enemy. I'd convinced myself of that and couldn't trust anyone. But not anymore. Now, I'm going to start off by trusting people. Because if I can do that, then..._

_I think I can become a Heaven's Mirror..._

'Go together... yes, I'd really like that!'

Polka answers in a bright tone. Allegretto gets up from his seat.

'Okay! Then we should get going.' Then he notices the guest who almost has not taken part in the whole conversation. 'Oh, Frédéric. By the way, what are you gonna do?'

'I was heading for Forte as well.' He replies. 'I'll escort Polka all the way there.'

'What? You're going to Forte, too, Frederic?' Beat beams. 'That's great, I guess that means we're all going to the same place!'

However Allegretto grumbles in his heart. He is used to working alone or with Beat only. The more people involve the more inconvenience it will be, almost a universal truth, but he does not speak his thought out.

_This trip is really getting crowded, huh..._

The group gets to their feet and gathers outside the house ready to set out. March bid their farewell at the door.

'March, thank you so much for everything.'

Polka bows to the kind forest guardian.

'Don't mention it. And if you ever come through the forest again, please stop by.'

March waves at them as they head off. She can hear them having another lively talk already as she turn the door handle.

'Darn. I wish I'd gotten another chance to take a picture of that glowing agogo. Oh, well.'

_Glowing agogo?_

Forgetting the open door, March steps back outside to listen more.

'Are you still going on about that? You know you can just go back to the same cave again later.'

'Allegretto's right. As long as some agogos show themselves, I'm sure you'll get to take a picture of them next time.'

Back in the house, March sinks into meditation.

_I wonder what they meant._

_I suppose it must have just looked as if it was glowing, because I've never heard of agogos glowing before._


	2. Chapter 2 Revolution

Disclaimer: I don't owe Eternal Sonata

CHAPTER II

REVOLUTION

The scarlet banners mark the emblem of Forte. The sunlight casts the shadow of the sculpture of the window frames on the expensive carpet. Lounging in the throne of the Forte Castle is the ruler of Forte City.

'Please. There is no need to do any such thing. What can Andantino possibly do?' Count Waltz sneers at the mentioning of the antigovernment party again. 'Do they think they'll start a revolution just by declaring they oppose the government?'

His minister is not so sure however.

'Still my Lord, we've received reports of Andantino engaging in activities to disturb the peace. Perhaps it would be best to nip this in the bud.'

Waltz really starts to think that this old man is labouring under a baseless fear.

'Legato, stop worrying. "Disturbing the peace" is exactly what rebels do.'

Legato still thinks it is too earlier to assume so.

'Well, yes...'

'But a revolution involves toppling a country's government. Do you really think Andantino is capable of doing that?'

Waltz gets up from this throne – a dangerous sign. Legato is not stupid enough to say the wrong word.

'No.'

'No matter how many followers they gather, Forte Castle will not fall.' Waltz clutches his fist. 'Andantino knows that, perhaps better than anyone. And yet they continue to fight. Why do you think that is?'

Legato merely stands there staring down at his feet, silent, because he knows he cannot. He gained his position nowadays not by his pathetic political talent but flattering with those in authority. Yet now, his flattering skill and cheek cannot save him.

Sparks fly from Waltz's eyes.

'Didn't you hear me? I asked you a question: why does Andantino continues to fight?'

Legato's eyes widen as he realizes the Count is right in front of him.

'Don't know the answer?'

Cold sweat oozes all over Legato's forehead. He can hear his heart pounding, does not dare uttering a sound, which is lucky as Waltz does not seem to expect him to answer.

'It's because there is someone backing them. They're not stupid. They haven't stopped fighting because they think they have a chance to win.'

Waltz walks around behind Legato.

'So, that means our true enemy is the one who is backing Andantino. We'll let Andantino play out their game. They're not threat.'

He stops in front of a window, gazing down at his city.

'And besides, Legato, we're already one step ahead of them.'

**Étude Op. 10: No. 12**

**Revolution**

On November 29th, 1830, an insurrection occurred in Warsaw, the capital of Poland.

It was the November Uprising.

At the time, most of Poland was Russian territory, and desire for independence had been growing.

About four weeks before the revolution, on November 2nd, Chopin left the increasingly dangerous Warsaw and headed for Vienna.

It is said that Chopin's friends encouraged him to leave the country because they knew rebellion was certain.

But Chopin was unaware of this, and his trip had been planned many months in advance.

Chopin was unusually talented as well as physically weak, so his friends wanted him to use the piano as a weapon to fight for Poland.

On November 23rd, approximately twenty days later, Chopin arrived in Vienna.

And six days after that, the insurrection in Warsaw started.

It went on for almost a year. Then, on September 8th, 1831, Warsaw fell. Ten months of lighting and ended in defeat.

Chopin, then age twenty-one, learned of the insurrection's failure while in Stuttgart, Germany.

The feelings with which he played the piano at this time take the form of this composition, "The Revolutionary Étude."

To Chopin, who genuinely loved his homeland of Poland, the insurrection's failure was difficult to bear.

But perhaps he found it even more difficult to bear the fact that he was safe in a foreign country.

Chopin would never set foot in his native land again.

The Chorus Plains is just at the back of the Agogo Village, a huge, open flatland of green grass and dandelion. Without the blocking of large mountains, wind is never insufficient, which supplies the best reusable energy for the residents to build a joint network of windmills together. The most common activities for them to make a living are farming and livestock breeding. It is no surprise to see flocks of goats and cattle eating grass now and then.

After the battle against the ogre and the conversation at March's house, the quartet has become closer to each other, and they talk about their lives as they stroll across the grass field. Polka really wishes that she can live in this place with her mother. Lives here are basically self-contained, no streets, no shops, free from the crowd and their discrimination in Ritardando, clean air and water and such beautiful scenery every day, and of course, no mineral powder.

Though direction is not a problem, as Frédéric can use his magic on his wand to point them to keep on the track, under such environment, however, food and water is the biggest challenge. The four of them has brought their own supply, but that does not cover the returning journey from Forte. They often try their best to save as much as they can, since they have no idea how broad the Plains is, and sometimes they may not come across anyone in two days. At night, for safety reason Allegretto and Beat offer to share their tent with Frédéric and Polka. Frédéric and Allegretto take turn to keep watch outside, allowing the female and youth to sleep.

It takes them five days until they reach an endorheic lake, the life force of the Chorus Plains. This is the perfect chance to replenish their water supply. Frédéric notices something moving near the lake bank.

'Look up ahead everyone. There's someone there.'

He points to a small flock of sheep. Among them is a woman, seemingly the owner of the herd. She is standing defensively against three figures.

'Get back! I won't let you lay a finger on my goats! You'll have to get through me first!'

From the way it sounds, those three things that woman is shouting at are planning on attacking or even killing her animals. Polka is the first to stand out.

'We have to help that woman! Come on!'

'Hey, wait!'

Before Allegretto can stop her, she has already rushes to the woman's aid. It is not Allegretto does not understand her desire to help people, but nothing can be achieved with only her heart but without power! And Polka can barely fight!

But then when he sees Beat also runs after her with his clarinet, he knows he cannot get out of this trouble anymore. There is no way he can leave while a girl and a young boy do all the fight.

_Why can't they give me a break?_

No matter what, Allegretto quickly turns his violin into his weapon. He then notices the musician, looking at Polka and Beat go without any intention of helping.

'Aren't you gonna do something?'

'I'll offer keeping an eye on the sheep for that lady.'

Allegretto can sense that Frédéric has no will of participating the fight, and at first was about to blame him, yet this reason his gives sounds so sensible that he can find nothing contradicting it.

'Fine, then.'

Sword in right hand, Allegretto goes. Frédéric walks over to the sheep.

_This is my dream. I can do whatever I want._

_I can't care more about others apart from Polka._

'Let's go!'

Violin-sword in his right hand, Allegretto charges at one of them. They are big, big and wearing cloaks. They have an eerie air, something inhuman. It raises its hand – corroded, icy, grey – fingers as claws and slashes down. Allegretto evades by rolling down on the ground, and appears behind it.

'Drawn into the never-ending depths of night! _Shadow Assault_!'

Like the way of a spear pierces, the blade stabs through its skin into its flesh and bones. _Shadow Assault_ is a variation of _Sun Slash_, attacking enemies not from their front but at the back, at a lower pace, but in return with more damage as each stab can hurt deep inside enemies' body.

The last hit strikes into its heart's position, up to the hilt. The moment Allegretto pulls out the sword the figure, without warning, back-scratches at him.

– _What the...!_

He reflectively uses the sword to block the attack. This way it is not him slicing its arm, it is it moving its arm onto the sword. The razor-sharp blade instantly dismantles its forearm onto the ground without a sound. It uses its another hand to attack, as if never feeling the pain. Facing such opponent that even a heart stab fails to take its life, Allegretto has no idea how to defeat it, and is being forced back.

'Retto!'

Beat attempts to distract it with his rifle. Since it is close to Allegretto, in order not to hit the wrong target, Beat uses a sniper bullet this time.

'Kid, on your feet!'

The warning is from the woman, who is duelling with another one with a bow – there are blades mounted on both ends of the limbs. Beat looks down at his feet. An evil purple gas is swirling, using him as the centre, thickening, spiralling towards him.

'Get away!'

The woman says again, while handling her opponent. It is hard to believe she can fight as well as minding the surroundings. There is no time for Beat to think. He throws himself onto the ground sideway. The gas explodes where he has been. Obviously, that cannot be a physical attack.

_What on earth was that?_

Yet he has only survived the first round. He searches for its caster – the remaining third one, its face hidden under the cloak. It now raises its palm over its head. A spherical fire grows out of thin air and diverges into six smaller ones – nasty ones that attacking from six different angles, automatically tracking him.

_Is that... magic?_

Beat hurriedly loads six bullets into the rifle. With great difficulty he manages to shoot down four before they find their marks. The last two are already in front of his eyes before he can react.

– _No!_

A flash of silver flickers across, intercepting the two fires and successfully protected him. It is Allegretto's sword. Noticing Beat in danger he chucks his only weapon to save him, leaving himself vulnerable and defenceless against his foe.

The woman is the only hope now, and she seems to know what these 'things' are...

'Please!' Beat yells. 'Help him!'

'A moment!'

Hands supporting the weight, the woman does a strong somersault back kick on her opponent's jaw. There is a heart shrieking sound of bone being crushed as its head flings backward. For a moment it seems to have suffered sufficient damage and ceases movements, the next second it raises his head looking at her. This level of injury should have sent anyone down on the ground, but to the figure it looks like it is nothing more than a breeze.

Seizing the brief moment just then, the woman pulls an arrow from her quiver and knocks it on her large bow, pulls back but does not fire, waiting for the figure's next move. There is only one chance. This is either a hit-or-die situation. If her shot misses she would not survive the next one.

The figure raises its palm. A fireball appears in its palm...

'Now!'

The potential energy stored in the stretched string transfers to the arrow as it is released, its fletching guiding it going in the correct angle, head splitting the air in its course apart as it travels. The sharp head drilled into the forehead of the figure, which gives out a chilling scream as it collapses onto the ground, and moves no more.

'How're you doing that?'

Allegretto demands, keeping himself at bay from the figure. No matter how hard he has attacked just then his opponent kept standing up.

'Take out their heads!'

_Head?_

Hearing the advice, Beat reloads four bullets into his rifle. Bullets travel much faster than arrows and can almost hit the target once they are fired. Beat holds his gun steadily, waiting for any moment it may give him.

With its pointer finger the figure draws a pentagon star in air at him. The region around his feet is turning deep. Beat looks up – it seems that it cannot move when it uses this move...

'Take this!'

The first three bullets hit into its face, while the last one actually blasts its head apart. Its headless body collapses.

The woman picks up Allegretto's sword.

'I believe it's yours!'

She chucks it back to its owner, who catches it in midair on its hilt at the exactly perfect timing. Once again armed it will be his turn again.

_Now that I know your weakness it'll be easy._

In no time the remaining arm is also severed, rendering the figure totally powerless and unable to attack. Allegretto holds the sword at the level of his head and move in. In a swift slash, its head falls off onto the ground.

'Last one!' The woman put the bow onto her back. 'Thanks a lot for your help. You all managed to save my goats.'

In Allegretto's opinion 'all' is not very correct, as Polka and Frédéric were almost not involved in any form of useful help at all, but he says nothing. Beat looks as though the sky has fallen down.

'What was with those guys anyway? They were weird, and they all used magic.'

As an observer, Frédéric recalls that those three cloaked ones had a strange, evil look in their eyes. That was not the air coming from human.

'Why on earth would they attack us like that? They had the ability to use magic, which means that they must be terminally ill, doesn't it?'

The group knows that this is the golden rule of this world – no one can use magic until they are close to death. Frédéric and Polka are two of them.

'What? You mean you don't know?' The woman says. 'That's what happens to people when they use mineral powder for too long.'

It is Allegretto's turn who is astonished.

'What? You mean if you keep using mineral powder, you might end up like those guys?'

'But lots of people in Ritardando are using it.' Polka says, looking alarmed. 'That's why floral powders aren't selling.'

'So that's it.' Allegretto says, arms folded. 'The mineral powder. I knew something fishy was going on. It's been bugging me for a while, and now I get it.'

Beat still not understands.

'What do you get?'

'Come on, think for a minute, Beat. Why do you think mineral powder is the only thing that's not taxed?'

'Well, that's an easy one. It's because Count Waltz is doing something nice for his people.'

Allegretto has to restrain himself from hammering on Beat's head. Can't he use his brain?

'No, dummy. You can't see things for what they are because you're always looking through the lens. Listen, try again this time, think about it more. Isn't strange that mineral powder is the only thing that's not being taxed?'

'Yeah, I guess. But that's okay! Because, since mineral powder is so cheap, it can help lots of people.'

'True, mineral powder does cure most illnesses,' says the woman. 'But it has very serious side effects. Mineral powder is actually close to a poison. It drives people mad, and eventually can lead to death. You saw it for yourselves!'

Polka initially only dislikes mineral powder because of its driving away floral powder such that she and her fellow villagers cannot make a living. She has never dreamt that under its sugar coating turns out to be deadly venom.

_Sooner or later, people in Ritardando will become like that too!_

The woman feels slightly uneasy at bringing the mood upon them.

'Well grazing time is over for today. Why don't you all stop by my place for a while? It's not very far from here at all. So, come on.'

She leads the way to her house by the lake. Once again, the party is seated at a table. Everything in the house is made of natural materials, fully utilising resources in the environment. It reflects the way of life here in Chorus Plains – simple and native.

'My name is Viola, and this little guy over here is my partner, Arco.'

Sitting on the table is a claret furry creature, somewhere between a squirrel and rabbit. Polka is instantly charmed by its cuteness as she reaches out her hands to play with it. Allegretto's mind is still on the mineral powder.

'So mineral powder's a poison!'

'But there must be more to it than that. Some reason for their wanting to distribute it amongst the people.' Frédéric elaborates. 'What could the Count's real objective be?'

'Who know?' Viola says. 'I've heard that there are lots of dark rumours about the Count.'

'But if he wanted to kill his own people, there are easier and faster ways to go about doing it.'

What Allegretto does not get is that mineral powder still needs time for it to induce the side effect on people. If the Count sends out his royal army Ritardando will fall in one night.

Even Polka joins the discussion.

'Now wait a minute. Maybe he doesn't know about the side effects of the mineral powder?'

Trying to trust people, this is what Polka holds after setting out on this journey, but Frédéric does not think this Count should be trusted.

'Is it really possible that he doesn't know?'

'I'm not sure. I mean mineral powder has its own uses, but just because it's useful doesn't mean that it's good.' Viola speaks out her opinion. 'Those involved might not realise what's wrong until it's too late. Unless someone does something about this soon, there won't be anything anyone can do to stop it. And since we can see what's going on, it's up to us to let them know.'

Because mineral powder is more efficient than floral powder at the beginning, people judge their value based on the short-term effectiveness, and pay no attention to the long-term consequences. They like how convenient it is so much, they don't see the danger they'll face later. Yet will anyone listen to Polka, the lone voice of truth?

'I see.' Beat says. 'People might notice that something isn't right, but they can't bring themselves to give it up because it makes life easier for them.'

The longer one wait, the harder the cure. Frédéric, who suffers much of his life with illness, nods at that.

'Regardless of whether the Count knows or not, I don't see any other option than to go to Forte Castle. Once there, we may learn more. If possible, we should try to meet with the Count in person, and discuss his intentions directly.'

Viola leaves her seat to look out her window. It is as if God's leading that she encounters this interesting yet extraordinary group of people – one kid, one young man, one girl and a gentleman, coming from different background, but having the same goal.

'You guys are really something.' She laughs brightly. 'I'm actually believing you'll be able to make a difference. And since my bow has some life in it...'

She turns around.

'Okay, that settles it. I'm going with you guys to the castle! Besides, I owe Count Waltz some payback. A bunch of my poor goats have been killed because of what he's done'

'What? You're telling me we've got another one now?' Allegretto slumps on the back of his seat, looking exasperated. 'Oh, terrific.'

Viola does not seem to mind that.

'Sorry, buddy. Not so fast. You've actually got two more coming with you. Arco and I always travel together.'

From her shoulder, Arco makes a mew noise, as if answering 'yes'. The sooner they move the better. Frédéric, Polka, Allegretto and Beat stock up some dried mouton and salted vegetables offered by Viola, who startles them when they see her bringing out a large bunch of arrows from her room. Apart from the normal broadhead ones there are four more types, distinguished by the colour of the head. Viola puts them all in a quiver along with her bow on her back. As she leads the way out Allegretto takes a quick glance at an opened book on a shelf. It reads:

_The Way of Archery_

_for a stealthy attack_

_for opponent's head_

'Lord Count,' says the guard outside the throne room. 'Fugue is back from his mission.'

'Let him in.'

The door is opened, in walks a man wearing royal guard armours and a monocle on his right eye. He kneels down.

'I'm back, Lord Count.'

'Well, Fugue? Did you learn anything new?'

Fugue stands up and beings to report.

'Yes, my Lord. It was relatively easy to find the creatures in question, but unfortunately, I could not find a single one that glows.'

Waltz waves his hand in dissatisfaction. What is the point of hearing such rubbish?

'I've no interest in hearing about your failure.'

'Yes, but...'

'I must have them, no matter what. If we obtain some of that glow, even by conservative estimates, the potency will increase tenfold.'

Waltz is not looking at Fugue but somewhere distant in his mind. The enthusiasm in those purple eyes, somehow, seems manic.

'It is our duty to protect the well being of our citizens. The role of a government is to serve its citizens, to the utmost of its ability. If the powder's effectiveness increases, the people will be happy, will they not?'

He gives Fugue a sly squint.

'I can just see the smiling faces of my subjects.'

At the thought of this, Waltz cannot help but laughs out aloud. This person is at his right mind and can think logically, but when he speaks of his plan it is like playing a game of great fun. Fugue stirs uncomfortably.

'So, now that you understand what's at stake, you will go and search for them again. And don't come back until you've found them. This is for our beloved citizens.'

Relieved that the Count does not give out any punishment, Fugue loosens his shoulder.

'Yes!'

'I won't listen to another report of failure. Understand?'

Fugue bows and leaves, just when Legato is entering.

'My Lord, the mining operation at Mt. Rock is proceeding smoothly. Mineral powder production is also increasing according to plan.'

Before he can say anymore Waltz has raised his hand to halt him.

'There's no need to report when things are going well.'

Without another look he stands up from the throne and leaves, leaving Legato alone stupidly on the spot.

Several waterfalls rush down the cliff of the great canyon. The water droplets that floats in the air refracts the bright sunlight up ahead, separating the seven light of different wavelengths into the most colourful optical phenomenon in the world. Far, far above the river that flows through it is a long rope bridge.

Polka examines the few wooden boards at their end. There are holes scattering everywhere.

'This is a pretty old bridge.'

Beat goes closer for a peep at below. As soon as he sticks his head in midair he pulls himself back, gasping.

'If you fell from here, you'd be dead for sure.'

Though Viola lives in the Chorus Plains, since she does not usually take her animals this far to graze, this is actually the first time she has ever crossed this bridge.

'But if you wanna get to Forte Castle from Ritardando, you have no choice but to cross this Cabasa Bridge.'

At the other side of the bridge is a high wall, probably made of bricks. Frédéric notices that there are watchtowers and murder holes on it.

'I understand. This bridge is a form of protection. It creates a single point of defence for the Forte territory, against any attacks that may come from the south.'

By limiting the possible point of invading to just this bridge, it is most effective to build a stronghold right at its entrance to block enemy troops. In the worst case Forte can even cut down the bridge to sever the only one linkage between the two places. This is truly a comprehensive design from a military perspective.

'Bingo!' Allegretto exclaims. 'Hey, you're pretty darn smart, aren't you? That's right. If what I remember is right it's called...'

Even not looking at his face, the group can already feel the flush in his face.

'It's called Fort Fermata.' Viola says.

'Yeah, right. Fermata. That's it.'

'Let's be careful going across, okay?' Polka says. 'We don't want to fall.'

Beat is shaking like a leaf.

'I think I'm gonna wet myself.'

Frédéric steps one foot cautiously onto the bridge with the other one still on solid ground, testing whether the bridge is all right to set foot on. He then stands on his feet on the same board and learns that though old, it can still support a fully-grown man's weight. He turns around and says to the rest of the group.

'I think it's okay.'

Viola, Allegretto, Polka and finally Beat (very gingerly) start to walk across. They have to watch out all the little holes and cracks hidden among the boards. The latter ones are easy to spot out, as they are see through to the below river, but the cracks are different. They do not dare exerting pressure on them, for fear that they may actually break apart, then they would fall all the way down. Frédéric uses his wand to find out all the possible dangers and lead at the front for the rest to follow exactly where he has stepped on.

The middle is the most thrilling part of their crossing. Cabasa is a suspension bridge that there is not any support along all the way through apart from the two ends. All the bridge's mass is held by the two thick braided ropes, tied down to the cliff by four poles. Because of this, there is always vibration on the bridge, moving to-and-fro in simple harmonic motion, which has the largest amplitude in the middle. At one spot Beat is too scared to make another move that he wraps his arms tight around the rope, eyes shut tight, absolutely refusing to let go no matter how Allegretto pulls him. It is not until he discovers that everyone is on the other side and learns he is the only one remaining that he has no choice but to make a dead run. The result is certainly that he makes it safely across, but then collapses on his knees, almost close to tears.

'How's it going Beat? So, did you wet yourself?'

Allegretto does not let go any chance of making fun out of Beat, who unsurprisingly blushes to the roots of his hair.

'No! Of course not!'

Looking back at the bridge, Polka raises her question she has been thinking as she walked across.

'It's strange though. Do they actually think that someone will attack Forte from the south? After all, the only big city that's south of here is Ritardando. Do they really need to keep watch from here?'

'That's a good question.' Allegretto says. 'But just take a look around this place. I never said they were actually keeping watch.'

Indeed, Fort Fermata looks entirely abandoned. Grass grows around the entrance, the colour on the Forte royal emblem weathers, a few stone statues carved on the gate have their heads missing. There is no sign of any soldiers posted here.

'Yeah, that's weird.' Beat says. 'I figured a fort of all places would have lots of guards.'

But no matter whether there are guards here or not, the obstacle laid in front of them is the grate gate. Unless they open it or they can never get to Forte City. Fermata acts as a fortress, but simultaneously it has to allow citizens and merchants to travel between Ritardando and Forte. Perhaps in the old days the gate is usually open, yet right now without anyone inside do the job this would be a trouble.

While everyone is wondering what to do, Frédéric silently approaches the gate, wand pointing at it.

'Open up.'

There is a creaking sound when the mechanism slowly cranks the heavy gate up, revealing a straight hall ahead. The gate goes 'thud' as it is held up above their heads.

'Woah, I'm starting to love magic.'

Beat's statement has no other intention than his true feeling, but Allegretto gives him a warning look as he glances at Polka, thinking whether this may upset her or not. Fortunately, no. Confirmed the pathway is clear, the group enters the passage.

The name 'Fermata' is given to this fort perhaps can be referenced to music. The paraphrasing term for it is 'hold' or 'pause'. It is an element of musical notation indicating that the note should be sustained for longer than its note value would indicate. Exactly how much longer it is held is up to the discretion of the performer or conductor, and twice as long is not unusual. The symbol of a fermata is a half circle, whose centre is a dot. It turns out that the design of this fortress happens to be composed of two semicircles as well, one west, and one east, leaving the centre diameter as the passage between Ritardando and Forte. Likely because the fortress is similar to two fermata notes put together, someone then named it 'Fermata'.

There is no ceiling above the passage – it is open-air. Along the walls are once the best artwork of murals and stone-sculptures, but already worn out by sunlight and rain. Running along both sides of the passage at the foot of the walls are two streams of water. Bryophytes are growing in them, making the water looks algae-green.

'Well this fort was in use a long time ago.' Allegretto recalls what the priests in Mandolin Church told him years ago. 'You see, Ritardando was attacked by pirates lots of times. This is the best spot for a fort if Ritardando was ever beaten by enemy forces.'

'Even so, right now it's just a comfy home for people who've been driven mad by the mineral powder.'

Everyone turns to look at Viola.

'How do you know about this?' asks Allegretto.

'Remember what I said about those three guys attacked my goats? I heard from my neighbours, that they all come from this fort. They're more like berserkers than zombies, it can be that a few of them happened to have broken out and wondered around the Chorus Plains.'

It is as though the group suddenly feels the chill of hundred of pairs of eyes spying on them. Polka anxiously looks around.

'So you mean, those things are all... here, behind the walls?'

_What if they all break out at us?_

'Therefore it's best for all of us to keep a low profile as we pass through.' Viola sounds like it is the most obvious thing to do.

Still it is never wrong to be cautious. Frédéric, Allegretto and Beat readied their weapons in case anything burst out from anywhere near them, while moving as quiet as they can to the exit at the other end.

This is a house in the countryside outside Forte's territory. The only source of light is the candle on the torch.

Though said to be a house, there are only a few pieces of basic furniture like a table and several stools. No matter what angle it is looked at, this is not a place ordinary people live.

'Understand?'

The speaker is a man at his late twenties, hair tied into a ponytail at the back of his head, but on his mature face this makes him look even more macho.

'Can you explain it again, Jazz?'

It is normal to ask again if one does not hear clearly, but to Falsetto this woman is a sore to the eye from her appearance, voice and style of speech. In short, every aspect.

'Ugh. Claves, why do you always need things repeated?'

'I'm sorry, but this is an important mission, so I want to make sure I get it right.'

Falsetto does not get it. She and Claves listened to what Jazz said together, in this same room in front of him. How come she can get every word in one time but not Claves?

'Yes. This mission is vital to our cause. I'll explain it once more. Is that all right, Falsetto?'

At least she does not need to do the job herself. She lets out an impatient sigh.

'Fine.'

'The objective of this mission is to rescue the guardian of Agogo Forest, who is being held in the dungeon beneath Forte Castle. We'll infiltrate the castle tomorrow at dawn.'

'But the castle gates are heavily guarded. What will we do about that?'

Falsetto's impatience rises. Does she expect them crashing down the gates?

'We'll use the underground passage between Hanon Hills and the prison. This information is solid. Our members spent a full year investigating it.'

'Falsetto's right.' Jazz nods. 'It won't be that difficult a mission. We just have to bring the guardian back.'

'Why are we rescuing her anyway?' Claves asks again. 'I mean, how will rescuing her benefit Andantino?'

'Apparently Waltz is searching for glowing agogos.' Jazz answers. 'One of our members spotted his man Fugue in the Agogo Forest. So, it makes sense that they would want to detain the guardian and make her tell them about the glowing agogos.'

'The glowing agogos? But, what on earth does Waltz want those for?'

All these have been explainsed before actually. Falsetto finally cannot restrain herself.

'Well, they do taste good in soup.'

Jazz distinguishes the sarcasm in her voice.

'Falsetto! If you don't take this seriously, we'll end up making a mess of even the easiest missions!'

This is so unfair that Falsetto really wants to protest. She and Jazz have been friends when they were kids. Since Claves has joined all his attention gradually moves to this newcomer. Everything about Claves is right, and all about her is wrong. Yet Jazz is the leader and her boss, and she does not dare disobeying his order.

'Fine.'

'Apparently, agogos double the effectiveness of ordinary mineral powder. And glowing agogos will probably increase it even further. If Waltz gets his hands on those, he'll have an unlimited supply of mindless soldiers.'

Perhaps from Waltz's point of view, by multiplying the effect of mineral powder with the glowing agogos, he will be multiplying the number of troops he has at his disposal.

'I get it now.' Claves claps her thigh. 'And then he'll use those troops to fight against Andantino.'

Falsetto doubts about this.

'I don't know. I seriously think he'll be attacking Andantino any time soon. He probably considers Baroque more of a threat.'

Baroque is another big city at the far northeast of Forte. The two of them are separated by two mountain ranges. They do not have a very friendly relationship. It is rumoured that Baroque secretly supports the revolution activities of Andantino.

These are already out of the topic. Jazz gets to his feet.

'All right, you two. Come on, I think it's about time we cut the chatter and got to work.'

The other side of Fort Fermata is the entrance to a series of wavy slopes, altogether known as Hanon Hills. Also a place full of green plants, the difference between here and Chorus Plains is that there are trees and shrubs along the small pathway on the hills rather than just grass. The lack of flatland makes it unfavourable to be inhabited, and thus the animals found here are more wildlife, for example, deer.

In music, Hanon is a compilation of exercises meant to train the pianists in speed, precision, agility and strength of all the fingers and flexibility of the wrists. In other words, it is not for performance but practice purposes aimed at beginners, and therefore is not too skill demanding. Similarly Hanon Hills is composed of hill ranges, but all the slopes are no more than a hundred metres high. Even having no hiking experience, one should have no problem in overcoming the whole track.

The next day should be the last day of their journey to Forte. The five of them decides to call it a day next to a sign read '15 miles to Forte' near sunset. As a celebration Viola brings her bow and one arrow and comes back with a small deer on her back. Polka and Beat help her to cut out the venison, Allegretto chops down some branches with his sword to build a fireplace, Frédéric uses his wand to light a fire on it. Truly as he said, this is his dream, and he knows any and all kinds of magic. They have a very enjoyable roast venison party this night.

'So tomorrow we're going to meet this Count Waltz, I can't wait to go back to Ritardando.'

Beat tears a large chunk of his deer leg, saved for him by Polka and Viola.

'Not so fast, we need to know where the castle is. That's the first thing we gotta do in Forte.'

No one bothers to bring any cutlery along with them. They all use their hands to eat like ancient tribesmen. Polka and Frédéric appear to be the most well-mannered ones.

'Speaking of Forte, why do they dispose those people who consumed mineral powder at Fermata? Don't they need that fort to guard against pirates?'

'Nope.' Allegretto says through a mouthful of venison. 'They're more worried about an invasion from Baroque these days. They've probably pulled out almost all the troops from here.'

Poland's revolution has made Frédéric unable to go back to his homeland. The Polish and Russians have been at conflict. Blood is shredded, lives are sacrificed. Turns out this is surprisingly alike to this situation in his dream.

_No matter how much time passes, war remains._

'Actually, I've even heard rumours that Baroque has been supporting Andantino. For Baroque, it's an easy way to shake up things in Forte, without getting their hands too dirty.'

Frédéric has not heart of this Andantino before, but judging from what Allegretto says it is something, or someone that is opposing Forte.

'What is Andantino?'

'They're an underground group that's been trying to start a revolution in Forte territory.' It is Viola who answers. 'Basically, they're a bunch of rebels.'

'Wouldn't a revolution be destructive?'

Lots of people are involved, and those frantic revolutionists can give up their lives for their belief without a second hesitation. No matter which side is right, those who suffer most are the civilians. This is what Polka concerns most.

'But isn't a revolution better than nothing? It may improve people's lives a little, and that's a good thing, right?'

This sort of words sound strange coming from the mouth of an eight-year-old boy. Allegretto shakes his head.

'It's not that simple, Beat. Think about everyone in it. Andantino, Baroque, Forte, which one should win? We ordinary people don't have any way of knowing which of them is right.'

'I would imagine they all have their own agendas.'

Frédéric helps himself another venison steak, so does Beat.

'But one of them has to be the good guy, right?'

'Who knows? They might all be evil in their own way.' Allegretto adds a few new branches to the fireplace. 'Then again, they might all be right. It's hard to be sure.'

'Then, how are we supposed to figure out whose "justice" really is true justice?'

Everyone is digesting Polka's question that they finish their meal in silence afterward, and no one can fall asleep before midnight. Justice, in a war each side claims to be the justice. It has been abused so often that even kids are taught not to believe in it. Winners are the king, losers are the bandit. Only the side with power can have the say, and it is true in both real and dream world.

The next day they pack up early and continue their way. On the thought of their long journey of a week finally come to an end, their feet seem to carry them faster and lighter, but feeling less tired than usual. It is around four when they stop in front of the gate of Forte City, guarded by eight soldiers, hidden under the armour from head to toe, each armed with a dangerously-looking mace.

Beat points at them.

'Look at them. They must be the Forte soldiers. Let's ask them where the castle is.'

He is about to walk up to them when a hand held him firmly on the shoulder.

'Be polite, Beat! It's rude to point.'

Allegretto scolds, yet having been with him these days the group hear that he uses a deliberate loud and extravagant tone different from his usual way of talking, as if hoping those soldiers can hear it too. Then they hear him whispering under his breath.

'Don't ask them. Just walk in.'

No one would like to arouse any suspicion here. They pretend to look around like other tourists on their first visit. After a brief check (Polka does the explanation part) they are granted permission to enter. Once they are out of ear shot Beat bursts out on how he was treated just then.

'What were you doing, Retto? What's wrong with asking them? They must know where the castle is, right?'

'Can't you use your brain? Forte has Andantino and Baroque as enemies. They won't care whether we are innocent or not and I guarantee the first thing they would have done was to interrogate us what business to do with Waltz!'

Reminded by Allegretto, it is the first time the party has ever thought of this possibility. Forte Castle should be a landmark of Forte, naturally almost all citizens should know where it is. Asking them has less risk to take.

'Then what are we supposed to do now?'

This is Polka's first time to travel outside Ritardando. Apart from mineral powder and floral powder she basically knows nothing about the world. Allegretto folds his arms as he think.

_If we're normal tourists, what would we do?_

'It's gotten a bit late. An hour or so later it'll be sunset.'

'Then all of today's public audiences with the Count should be over.'

Polka is a little bit disappointed, on the contrary Viola does not mind at all.

'Well, we're not in that big hurry. We can go to the castle in the morning.'

'I agree.' Frédéric says. 'We should go find an inn for the night.'

It is beginning to get dark by the time they get into the central plaza at town centre. One after one the shops, bars and houses lighten up their lamps. Plenty of citizens are still crowding in the streets. It is like a town that never sleeps, as expected from the place below the Count's feet. Unsurprisingly there are lots of inns and hotels established around here, the group chooses one that does not look too luxurious. At the front desk, to save money, Viola and Polka shares one room, Allegretto and Beat another one, and Frédéric a single room. Considering that they are going to go home the next day, they decide to go on separate activities for the night. Allegretto, Beat and Polka do some window shopping, Viola goes to a bar and socializes with the locals as she drinks. It turns out there is an ensemble show at the central plaza, and this is exactly the place for Frédéric. The ensemble attracts a considerable amount of curious people to stop and hear, and Frédéric can overhear some of them have depth knowledge about music, but he merely hides in the crowd.

What will happen the next day, the musician does not know. However, somehow, somewhere deep in his heart, he feels it is like the brief moment of silence before a huge storm coming.

Forte Castle is established on a small hill at the back of Forte City, giving the impression of nobility and authority. There are two flights of stone stairs leading up to a circular square in front of the castle gate. Awaiting the group is a massive old man, his left eye covered by a patch, the way of typical pirates do. Behind him are a dozen of royal guards.

'I see the whole group has arrived.'

His voice is so thick and heavy that it is hard to believe it is from a man with white hair and moustache.

'Hey, he looks like someone in authority round here.'

Allegretto addresses to the group. Polka agrees with him. Every aspect of this man matches the stereotype of men in power.

'You're right, he does. Let's go ask him if he can get us an audience with Count Waltz.'

The old man steps towards them, cricking his shoulder.

'Hold it. We already know all of your plan. Let's keep this very simple. Don't resist us, and none of you will get hurt.'

Frédéric immediately smells a rat.

'Now just hold on. Something doesn't appear to be quite right with this situation.'

Beat however runs up to the man. The ratio of their body is like a small rat to an elephant.

'Hey, mister. We came here because we want to see whoever's in charge of this castle.'

The man looks down at Beat, grinning slyly.

'Oh, you'll see him all right! From your cell!'

With a strong backhand he knocks Beat right off his feet. Beat's tiny body is sent flying under such force, then landed heavily on the ground, apparently fainted. Allegretto runs to his side.

'Beat, no!'

Unforgivable! How can anyone do this to a child! Furiously he turns to the man.

'Hey, mister! What do you think you're doing?'

Alarmed, Frédéric and Viola stand in front of Polka, protecting her. The man waves the guards forward.

'Throw them into the dungeon!'

'You!'

This is too much to Allegretto that he wants to give as much pain to his bastard as he can. He tries to get his violin. Frédéric knows what he plans on doing.

'No!'

There must be some kind of misunderstand behind, but if they attack someone in the castle they would immediately be declared as criminals. As long as they can keep their lives there must be chances in future. Fortunately Frédéric's warning has called Allegretto's wit back. Bounded tightly by ropes, they are brought to the dungeon prison cells below the castle. The guards take their belongings away and rudely push them all into a cell and lock the gate behind them.

But they are not the only occupants. Locked in the same cell is a small figure. Layered pink hair, exotically patterned sundress, pointy ears, at around Beat's age.

Someone as little as this is confined as well? Viola finds it hard to believe.

'Hey, who's this little girl?'

'Just who do you think you're calling a "little girl", old lady?'

Everyone is startled at the language she uses. 'Blunt' is perhaps the most neutral way to describe it. Viola is outraged.

'Old lady? Why you little...'

'Now, now. Don't fight.'

Beat attempts to calm the rising tension, which completely fails as the girl now turns on him, hands on waists.

'Oh, what's this? Just who do you think you are, you little runt? Can't you see I'm busy talking to this old lady right now!'

'Huh? Runt? Hey! I'm almost the exact same height as you!'

Instead of solving the argument, now it becomes even hotter and messier. Allegretto shakes his head. Knowing this is going to be a losing battle, Frédéric is not stupid enough to interfere at this moment.

'You called me old lady again! You're gonna pay for that!'

Initially does not speak a word, Polka uncommonly expresses her impatience.

'Please, you three! Let's just all settle down!'

Viola, Beat and the girl stop their quarrel, still glowering at each other. This is not the time for a fight. The highest priority now is to get out of this dungeon. Frédéric himself can open the lock easily of course, yet he thinks it is not a good idea revealing his magic in front of this stranger girl.

'Unfortunately, I must admit I'm rather at a loss as to what to do next.'

'No problem, that's an easy one. We'll just have to break out of here.'

This is the most reasonable thing to do, but in the girl's ears she takes Allegretto's words as being sarcastic.

'Hah! It's one crazy after another with you people. If it was that easy to get out, they wouldn't call it a dungeon.'

Allegretto observes closely at the girl, feeling that somehow she is alike March. The difference is the air between them. March is always mature and staid, but this girl has a sense of mischievousness on her face. If March is the moon, then she is like the sun.

_Can she be...?_

'Hey, your name is Salsa, isn't it? We saw your sister and she told us to give this to you.'

He hands over the hat March had given him earlier in Agogo Village.

'Ooh, thanks a bunch! I just never feel quite myself if I don't have this.'

Salsa takes the hat and put in on her head.

'So then, you people met March? My sister can be so unfriendly and rude sometimes. I hope she didn't say anything that might have upset you.'

Viola and Beat are close to have said it should be her who is unfriendly and rude. In such short period, this girl has already been offending them continuously, but having not a single clue about her wrongness. She is truly a difficult one to deal with. March said they are twins, yet they are the exact opposites.

'I'm guessing March has all the social skills in the family.'

Allegretto whispers to Beat, who giggles.

'No kidding.'

'By the way, how did you people figure out that I was Salsa?'

_Isn't this simple enough?_

_We got your hat from your sister, and you think she wouldn't tell us about you?_

Allegretto knows perfectly well that he cannot say so, or else there will be another argument.

'Uhh, we just had a feeling.'

He expects this will stop her from asking further, yet contrarily she becomes excited.

'Wait, I've got it! You're a magician! That's how you knew who I was!'

It is just so hard to understand how the little brain of Salsa works. Allegretto and Beat look helplessly confused at each other. Salsa talks on.

'And a magician can make himself disappear. So you're going to disappear and then reappear outside the cell walls, right?'

Allegretto is not a magician. There is certainly no way he can do that. Beat suddenly has a splendid idea on this.

'Disappearing isn't all that magicians can do. They can free themselves from handcuffs and stuff. And proof, just like that, they can unlock cell doors, too.'

'Of course! I forgot about that part! So, you are a magician!'

Salsa points at Allegretto as she jumps up and down. She then looks sideway at Beat.

'Hey, you may be a little runt, but at least you're way smarter than that old lady over here.'

That sensitive word again. Viola looks simply pissed.

Locks are never an obstacle to a skilled thief. Making sure there are no guards around, Allegretto takes out a triangular-head and a square-head lockpicks and inserts them into the keyhole. Without much effort there is a soft 'click', telling him the job is done. Polka looks highly puzzled.

'Hmm, Allegretto. I'm impressed, you really seem like you know what you're doing.'

Allegretto's heart almost misses a beat.

_Can't let her know no matter what!_

'Oh, well, you know I am a magician, after all!'

'I think we call all imagine what kinds of things you were up to in Ritardando.' Viola says, looking up at the ceiling. 'Don't worry about it.'

Frédéric has been wondering how to open the lock without letting Salsa know he can use magic. Now that Allegretto has saved him the trouble, why is the point of uncovering his mask? Hands folded behind his back he waits for the group's next move. In this whole matter, the only ones fooled are Polka and Salsa.

'Come on, let's hurry and get out of here already!'

The coast seems to be clear. Allegretto carefully opens the gate to the smallest extent to avoid any creaking sound from the joints. Everyone slips out of the cell quietly. Allegretto walks at the front to check for any guard, but it turns out there is no one standing post in the dungeon, perhaps at the thought that no one can escape from the castle.

The next thing is to get their stuff back. It does not take long for them to find all their things put on racks behind a rail of bars at the far end of the dungeon. Judging on the arrangement this should be some kind of temporarily evident vault. Allegretto picks open the lock and get back his violin, Frédéric his wand, Beat his clarinet and Viola her archery equipment. There is also pair of orange rings, usage unknown at first sight, which turns out to be Salsa's. She hangs them on her back.

The next problem comes. They have no idea the ways in the upper castle area. There is no guarantee they can have a safe escape. While the group thinks hard on any possible method, Beat notices a small hole on the wall next to his feet.

'What's with this hole?'

Frédéric walks up to have a closer look. There is still brick powder scattered on the ground, still fresh in colour.

'Mmm. Whoever made this hole must have been quite a hurry.'

'It looks suspicious to me.' Viola says.

'But it seems to be our only way out.' Polka turns to the others. 'There are bound to be lots of soldiers upstairs.'

'It'll be fine! I'll bet this hole was dug by a great burglar!' Salsa says smugly. 'I'm sure it will get us outside!'

Viola will have loved to speak out aloud that burglars would never try to rob the prison cells for money, at such whoever dug this hole cannot be burglars.

'Well, fearless leader, what should we do?'

_Fearless leader?_

Allegretto is surprised at his new title. It is difficult to tell whether this is praise or being sarcastic. With Polka and this Salsa character, he and Beat and Frédéric have to exert extra effort in protecting them as well as fighting. Avoiding any confront with anyone is preferred.

_Either way there will be risks._

_Those who dug this hole should be someone not in the castle. Then perhaps going through here is safer_.

'All right, let's give it a try! You know what they say, "If you don't go into the lion's den, you can't count your chickens".'

It does not make any sense at all, but nevertheless it is decided. One by one (Salsa being the first) they kneel down and crawl through the hole. The first thing they feel is the sudden increase in moisture and coolness in the air. Apparently there is no light inside. Frédéric uses his wand to summon a light on its tip. The mineral on the wall reflects the light and illuminates the area.

What reveals in front of the group is a long cave, laden with narrow conical tubes on both the ceiling and the ground, some connected together. Mineralised water is constantly dripping from the ceiling. When the drops fall, they leave behind the thinnest ring of calcite. Each subsequent drop that forms and falls deposits another calcite ring, and eventually, after many many years, these rings form these tubes known as stalactites and stalagmites, and those joins together becomes columns.

This water cave is just below Forte Castle. Polka sincerely hopes that it can be the way it is forever without being disturbed by human activities. Frédéric leads the group at the front. It is exceptionally quiet down here to the point that it is scary, as if something may suddenly leap out. The sound waves from their footsteps bounce and re-bounce several times against the walls.

They come to a folk, one ahead and one to the left. They can hear clearly their breathing and heart pounding once they stop.

'Which way to go?'

Frédéric does not expect them to give an answer. This is their first time to be here, and hence it is impossible to know the routes. What he means is to make a vote on choosing either one to go on.

'Let me try.'

Viola comes out and closes her eyes, listening carefully to any smallest sound that can guide them in the correct way. Living in the plain as a hunter and farmer for years, she has kept the natural instinct of primitive men.

_Although it sounds like there is only the sound of water dripping, there's still a very faint sound different._

_It's continuous, likely a water current or a waterfall._

_If that's the case, there's bound to be wind coming from where it is._

_It's coming from..._

'Left.'

'You know?'

'You're amazing, Viola!'

'I just hope you're not trying to play the saviour, old lady.'

Viola does not take Salsa head on.

'Fine, we'll go this way, and you can go that way.'

Salsa does not expect her words to backfire like this. Frédéric, Polka, Allegretto and Beat are taking the left way. Being alone lost in this place is the last thing she wants. Grunting she follows at the back. At the next folk Viola again chooses the left one. The rushing sound of water is getting louder and closer. The end of this session leads them to a huge open area, filled with mist made by waterfalls descending to the underground lake. The only pathway to get to the other side is along the precipice.

'Lean your back against the rock.'

The surface of the water looks opaque. There is no way to know how deep the lake is. If they slip into it they may get drowned. Yet even if they can swim there is no guarantee that they can climb up the slippery rock surface back onto the pathway. In such situation keeping the centre of mass as low as possible is preferred, and therefore Beat and Salsa have least difficulty in proceeding. On the contrary Frédéric and Viola are the slowest.

The next session is an abyss possibly formed by the underground water eroded the rocks away. The rock bridges intersect each other in the middle as if a spider web maze. There is a thread of light coming from above in the next session, which means only one thing – they are near the ground surface. They do not dare trying those bridges hanging above the bottomless pit and only feel their way along the side.

At one point, Frédéric feels a breeze on his hand on the rock. He points his wand to that area to investigate, and sees a crack.

If wind is able to reach here, that means...

'Everyone come over here. Behind this rock should be the exit.'

'Really?'

Excited, Salsa runs up to the crack and, to Beat and Viola's surprise, begins to push it open.

'Eh, Salsa. You aren't thinking you can move it, are you?'

Allegretto suppresses his urge to laugh as he says.

'Who says I can't? Watch it!'

But her hands have barely touched it when the rock moved, revealing the bright sunlight outside...

After several days of journey, Jazz, Falsetto and Claves arrive at Hanon Hills. The trio stops in front of the opening of a saddle-like slope. There is a piece of ordinary rock (or at least it seems to be) sitting against the vertex.

'All right then. There should be a switch behind this rock. Falsetto, if you wouldn't mind doing the honours...'

Honestly, 'the honours' is only a beautified word for 'the job'.

_Me again! Why not that Claves?_

'Right.'

The stone slowly rolls sideway. In the darkness suddenly out arrives a creature. Thinking it to be some kind of dangerous animals dwelling in the tunnel, the trio reflectively draws their weapon ready to fight it, only to see it has a head with layered pink hair, two arms and two legs, like a small human child, similar to what Jazz heard from his men about the Agogo Forest guardian's appearance.

_She is...!_

'Whew! It's about time! We're finally outta that place.'

Salsa fans herself with her hand and talks on her own, to herself, as if totally unaware of the Andantino rebels' presence.

'Huh. I can't believe this huge rock moved out of the way, just by pushing it a little. I guess I'm even stronger than I thought I was!'

_Pushing?_

Falsetto looks at the rock behind this little girl. It leans against the slope, and hence cannot be 'pushed' outward, not to say her tiny body has no hope of moving it an inch. More people are coming out of the tunnel. No matter what, this is supposed to be a secret within Andantino only. Someone bursting out at a moment like this is something she has never expected.

'Who are you people? And how did you know about this secret passageway?'

There is cautiousness in her voice and face. Frédéric knows they have to clarify their identities first.

'We were being held prisoner in the dungeon of Forte Castle.'

'That's right.' Salsa says, finally noticing her. 'We didn't even do anything wrong, and they threw us in a cell like criminals.'

'No kidding.' Viola says. 'Anyone would've run away. My hair is a total mess.'

'Those guys are terrible!' Beat complains. 'They just arrested us and threw us in the dungeon. And we didn't do anything wrong to deserve it.'

Being bombarded with explanations without any background knowledge, the Andantino trio tries their best to digest all the words. But then Beat starts counting on his fingers.

'Well technically, I guess there are some bad things I've done, but still...'

Allegretto gasped in horror. Beat is going to spill out what they did in Ritardando. He quickly rushes over to muffle Beat before he says anything incriminating. Polka says sincerely to the Andantino trio.

'It's true. We were arrested at the entrance to the castle for no reason. I swear, we haven't done anything.'

She feels the man's amber eyes studying her, like she is being detected for lies. Being the leader of rebels, Jazz has seen all kinds of people. He can sense the honesty in this girl.

_She's telling the truth._

'It would seem they're not our enemies.'

He says to Falsetto at his back, who thinks the same way.

'I suppose you're right. Let's hurry up and get back to the mission.'

Their goal is to rescue the guardian of the Agogo Forest. She is about to walk into the tunnel when Jazz calls her back.

'Wait a minute, Falsetto. I pretty much understand what happened to the rest of you.' He looks in Salsa's direction. 'But what about you? Why were you arrested?'

Falsetto and Claves have not heard of Salsa's appearance yet, and hence are puzzled when Jazz asks that. Now that he has brought up this question, the group realizes that they do not know that either.

'Who, me? Well, I just came to talk to the fellow in charge about what's happening in Agogo Forest...'

'Please! Listen to me! What you're doing is destroying the whole forest!'

Unable to meet the Count in person, she is instead received by this old fart. The already bad-tempered Salsa bellowed out her dissatisfaction. What made she feel even angrier was this person's unconcerned attitude, like it was nothing more than squashing a bug.

'Young lady, I'm tired of repeating myself.'

'But it's true. If you don't stop mining Mt. Rock, the forest is going to die. The mountain and the forest are connected.'

'I've told you. We cannot make mineral powder without the mines at Mt. Rock. That powder is responsible for saving the lives of many of our people.'

Salsa did not give up this easily. Saving lives was never wrong, but it should be done in other ways, at least one that did not involve in other people's welfare.

'Sir, Agogo Forest is our home. But if you keep digging...'

_Home?_

'Hold on.' Legato's eyes went wide. 'Agogo Forest? You're telling me you live in Agogo Forest?'

Salsa did not sense anything wrong in his sudden change in tone.

'I have been a guardian of Agogo Forest ever since I was created. This is the first time I've come to a city like this.'

Legato stood up from behind his working desk, staring at her like he had never seen her properly before.

'Guards! Please come and show our "guest" to a room!'

Without a clue what was going to happen, Salsa tilted her head.

'Wh-what...?'

'Then this girl is the guardian of Agogo Forest, Jazz?'

What Claves expects to meet has been a lady-fairy or some sort but not a child like Salsa. Now that she is here there is not any need to proceed with the rescue.

'It seems our mission is complete.'

'Hey. You guys sound like you know something about what's going on around here.' Viola says. 'Why don't you come back to my place with the rest of us?'

Originally planned to meet the Count to talk about the mineral powder, with a response like that from a government man and being imprisoned without reason, no one in Polka's group wants to go back to Forte anymore. Besides, once Forte realizes they have escaped they might come after them.

'Yes, we shouldn't stay here much longer. We must leave. What are you people going to do?'

Frédéric asks Jazz. Judging from how the other two women are responding he should be their leader.

'Good question. I'm not really sure. Though, I must admit, it's thanks to you that our mission was a resounding success.'

'And much earlier than we planned, too.' Falsetto says besides him. 'It looks like we've got some extra time now.'

'Let's listen to what they have to say. Maybe they can tell us about the inside of Forte Castle.'

'That's right. It's boring when things always to according to plan. It's nice to have things shaken up every once in a while. It's okay with you, isn't it Claves?'

Claves looks nervously away. She can feel Falsetto narrows her eyes at her.

'Yes, of course.'

'Then it's settled.' Jazz says. After the talk, they will escort Salsa back to her forest.

Polka finally notices Allegretto's been muffling Beat this whole time.

'Allegretto? Is something the matter?'

'Oh, no, it's nothing, really. I was just thinking I really need to play with Beat more often.'

This is without doubt another lie. Beat's arms are wriggling in the air, waving no at Allegretto's excuse. He thinks he is about to be choked.

'Well, Beat did do his best.'

Polka smiles her warm smile to both of them. There is no way for Allegretto not to let Beat breathe. Beat returns a smile to Polka to thank her kindness. Smiling is the best thing for ice breaking, and the now eight-people group backtrack to Fort Fermata for Chorus Plains.

There is a loud bang of fist against the arm of the throne in Forte Castle.

'Really, Tuba. Were you expecting Andantino to just show up at the front gate bearing gifts for us?'

The throne's owner is on his feet, unmistakably cross. How could antigovernment members be that simple-minded to use the front gate? They would infiltrate during the dark or dig underground passages, and those who come to the gate must be common citizens. From the beginning he should not have let Tuba take charge of the capturing plan.

'M-my apologies, Count Waltz.'

Tuba cowards under his master's rage, trembling. Waltz waves his apology aside impatiently.

'Listen carefully, Tuba. I don't think I need to tell you that this is your last chance. Find them, and eliminate them all. Immediately.'

'Yes, my Lord.'

Very glad to be out of here, Tuba bows and limps away. Waltz calls him back.

'No, wait. The guardian of Agogo Forest, bring her back alive.' His eyes are shining with wildness. 'That is the will of the people, after all.'

12:16 AM

Two and a half hours passed.

There was no sign of any recovery on the famous musician. Ludwika was getting worrier and worrier.

'Frédéric...'

'Mr. Chopin is perhaps taking a journey on which he will have to face himself. Whether that journey will end with his return home, or with his acceptance of death, we cannot be certain.'

Ludwika could not care more about this. She just wanted her younger brother back.

'Frédéric. Please, come back to us.'

The group camps ten miles away from Fort Fermata at Hanon Hills after sunset. There are too many people for Allegretto and Beat's tent. At first it is decided that Polka, Beat and Salsa should sleep inside, but Beat resolutely refuses to be under the same piece of cloth with Salsa, so after dinner he sleeps outside the tent under the sky. Jazz, Falsetto and Claves build a fire, and Frédéric, Allegretto and Viola sit around it, chatting as well as standing guard.

'By the way, Frédéric.' Allegretto says. 'Why are you travelling? I don't think you ever told us.'

Frédéric stares at the fire, hesitating. A few sparks fly out from the cracked branches.

_I'm no longer sure if this world truly is a dream. Maybe it is real after all._

_Perhaps the world I thought of as reality was in fact nothing more than a dream._

_But then would that mean the cities of Warsaw and Paris do not exist?_

A stronger voice tells him 'no.'

_I'm sure they existed! I'm as sure as I am that my own name, the name of __Frédéric François Chopin has gone down in history in those cities as a famed pianist and composer!_

_I am not mistaken! This is a dream! No matter how unquestionably close it is to reality, this is still just a dream._

_But... how can it be that ambiguous?_

_What will happen to me when I no longer able to recognise that a dream is merely a dream?_

_To not be able to recognize that a dream is a dream, what a horrifying prospect! And, conversely, would a person like that even be able to recognize that reality is reality?_

_No. How could they? Why should there be a need to recognize that reality is reality in the first place? No one actually thinks about something as obvious as that in their daily life. In the same way, the presence of air goes unnoticed. It's so common it isn't really recognized, is it?_

_But if something cannot be recognized, does it even exist?_

'... I'm not really certain.'

'You're not certain?' Allegretto frowns. 'You're travelling but you don't know why?'

'I believe I will be able to tell you when the time is right. You see, I have yet to sort out my own feelings about all this.'

Allegretto takes this as to avoid the topic, feeling slightly disappointed.

'Well, if you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. I'm not trying to be nosy or anything.'

A few dead seconds passed before Jazz brings up a new topic.

'You guys know why we don't camp closer to Fermata, right?'

'Because of those mineral powder madman, is it?' Viola says.

'Yeah, and do you know why this fortress was built?' Falsetto asks.

'To protect Forte from things like Baroque and pirates.'

'Well, that's the official reason. It was built to keep the subjects of the king of Forte from escaping.'

Frédéric, Allegretto and Viola have not heard of any word about this, not even Claves.

'Huh?'

'Long ago, there was a king of Forte known as the Sage King. It's said that due to his honesty and benevolence he was revered by his subjects. The people were so willing to work hard for such a king that the whole kingdom was energised by it. Labour, culture, technology – everything combined contributed to the country's prosperity.'

Falsetto recites fluently like teaching a history lesson to them. Whoever this Sage King was he was someone before Waltz, and sounds a hundred times better than the latter one. It was perhaps what resulted in today's Forte City as they saw yesterday.

'What happened next?' Allegretto asks.

'It was during these times that Fort Fermata was erected. The king wished to keep all his admiring subjects close at hand. He couldn't stand losing the love and respect of even one of them. Once the fortress was completed, people weren't able to leave Forte at all. The people put up with being confined in Forte at first, but a situation like that couldn't last. Eventually, discontentment spread, rebellion erupted, and the selfish king was dethroned.'

There is a long pause.

'How sad.'

Viola takes pity on the king. What he did might really be too selfish, but after all he had done for his people he ended up being spurned by again his people. He surely must have felt being betrayed. Allegretto however holds the opposite opinion.

'No really. Sounds like he got what he deserved.'

'No, I think that's the only he thought he could protect himself.' Jazz says. 'He wanted to be thought well of, to be praised and admired, to be loved forever. He turned his back on his faults and lived a life of fantasy, and thus built this tall fortress to keep his world from slipping away.'

He uses an analytic approach in determining the king's merits and demerits, sounding unbiased and objective. Everyone listens to him quietly.

'It was how he eased his cowardly heart. In the end, the king lost all his friends who might have pointed out his mistakes, made up for his shortcomings, and helped him grow. The truly important thing is to accept both our strengths and our weaknesses; to believe in ourselves without fearing the judgment of others. We learn from our mistakes and grow from them. The king's inability to realize this is the saddest thing of all. Right?'

_Yes._

'Of course, that's all in the past. Come on, let's get some sleep.'

Jazz steps on the fire to extinguish it, instantly darkening the vast hill area. Jazz, Falsetto and Claves rest against trees in case anything happens. Frédéric, Allegretto and Viola lie down on the grass.

_Believe in ourselves without fearing the judgment of others... learn from our mistakes and grow from them._

_Right?_

Before asleep, Frédéric comes to a decision.

_I am being tested. That must be what's happening. There is something I am meant to realize on this journey._

_Paris and Warsaw are irrelevant! If my dreams and reality have already mixed, then..._

_Then I must do my best to live life in this merged world! This is what's most important._

The next morning, bright and early, the eight people pack their belongings and move on.

'That was about what we expected.' Viola says.

'I didn't get it. That was kind of hard for me to understand.' Beat says.

'Oh? I understood it just fine. But why don't we explain it one more time, for the little guy?'

In fact Salsa has no idea what Viola is talking about, but by this strategy, she can get it explained as well as having a dig at Beat, who is cross.

'To put it simply,' says Frédéric, 'if there's no tax on mineral powder then it follows that everyone will keep using it.'

'And a side effect of the powder is that it allows people to use magic.' Falsetto says beside him.

'Then, once they go mad and become mindless warriors, they can be made soldiers. Then Forte's army will grow many times in size, and they'll easily defeat Baroque.'

Jazz again demonstrates his foresight. This is very likely the true purpose behind Waltz. If men, women and children of an entire city all become soldiers, there will easily be at least tens of thousands of men in his hand.

'But only people who are dying can use magic, right?' Allegretto clarifies. 'So, when they do die, Forte will lose its soldiers.'

'Yes.' Claves answers. 'So, in order to maintain the army, they'll flood the market with more and more powder.'

_And that means floral powder will just continue selling less and less._ Polka thinks.

'Then, as more mineral powder is sold, the number of soldiers will go on increasing. It would be a never-ending spiral, one that will lead straight to Hell.'

Many citizens who consume mineral powder may not have done anything wrong, but this powder can twist them into something they are not, making them extremely aggressive and attack anything on sight, just like what happened in Chorus Plains. In such case all of them will never be able to go to Heavens.

Frédéric knows best the pain of being tortured by sickness. All those people will experience the same, yet their fate is already determined the time their lips touch mineral powder. It is truly sad.

Normally speaking a person walks non-stop can cover in average four kilometres in one hour. Beat and Salsa's short legs can only manage around two miles per hour. It is just midday by the time they reach Fort Fermata.

'Wait a second.' Beat suddenly says. 'If they keep on doing this, building up an army for a war that may or may not happen, then sooner or later, there won't be any people left!'

_Yeah right! How stupid we haven't thought of this!_

'Yes, that's exactly right, Beat! You figured that out all by yourself.'

Viola gives him a thumb-up. Salsa disgruntles as Beat looks terribly pleased with himself.

'It really is just a complete waste.' Falsetto folds her arms. 'And Waltz realises that, too. He understands that if he can supply soldiers to the front line at any time Forte's military power will essentially be without limit. That's why he's trying to increase the strength of the mineral powder.'

'And apparently they need to mix glowing agogos into the mineral powder in order to accomplish that. Though I hear they also taste good in soup.'

Claves glances at Falsetto. This 'taste good in soup' is without question meaning for her when they were discussing on rescuing Salsa who, like March, looks perplexed.

'Glowing agogos? I don't remember there being any glowing agogos...'

Like a wolf sensing unusual scent in the air, Viola raises a hand to halt her.

'Shh!'

Frédéric, Allegretto, Polka, Beat and Salsa looks at each other, but experienced warriors with good hearing like Jazz and Falsetto are too tensed up. Viola kneels down and places her ear on the ground. To her horror there are rhythmic footsteps of marching approaching.

'They've found us!'

Viola warns the others. From the level of rumbling there should be more than twenty people. Jazz quickly delivers instruction.

'Let's go! Go!'

Everyone does not need to be told twice to run. They are already near the other end of Fermata. Once they cross Cabasa Bridge they will be safe.

Viola just steps out of Fermata when she looks back and finds that Jazz has his back on her, facing the passage where Forte's royal guards are fighting their way in at the far end. Holding at his left waist with his two hands is a huge broadsword, blade as long as a man's height.

'Jazz, come on!'

'I'll take care of them! You cross the bridge now!'

'But...'

_No matter how good he is he can't stop that many enemies!_

'He knows what he's doing.'

Falsetto stops and calls Viola to go with her. This is not scarifying others for own's life, but a shared trust between comrades. Hearing this, Viola catches up with others with Falsetto.

Determined, Jazz holds his weapon firmly in a ready position.

_It's time to get rough!_

Using his right foot as the axle, he makes a full-circle turn as he swings the broadsword above his head.

'_Whirlwind_!'

With all his might he strikes down the sword. The air particles adhere to the blade and build up, resulting in a disordered huge air current. The gust of hurricane fires out as if thousands of mountainous waves have joined together. Being trapped in the straight passage with nowhere else to dodge, the soldiers at the front lose their balance and are thrown backward like dominoes.

But an unknown strong force stops the trend. Coming out from the wall of fallen soldiers is a massive old man, white hair and moustache, holding a weapon as heavy as Jazz's broadsword – a five-feet-long morning star.

'Come on and dance!'

Instead of pointing the spikes on the head to Jazz, Tuba flips the morning star over and aims its end at him. Jazz does not get it – how can Tuba hit him from that distance?

'_Demonic Embrace_!'

A jet of fire actually bursts out from that end. Before the fire coming Jazz can already feel its boiling heat raiding upon him. There must be some kind of mechanism hidden inside the pole that once it enlightens the fuel stored it will send out flame as well as heat. Normally fire emitters can send out fire at most a few metres, yet this fire from that morning star can travel almost from one end to the other end of Fermata.

Jazz does not dare using his _Whirlwind_ to counter it. Wind may be able to take out temperature and oxygen which are required for a fire to go on, but it is not permanent. With one strike he can only send out one wave of wind, but Tuba needs not exert any force and can keep the fire going as long as his fuel does not run out.

All these thoughts raced through Jazz's mind in only a flash. The fire demon is roaring to embrace its pray. If he gets caught he will be burnt to death immediately.

'Damn it!'

He quickly retreats out of the passage and hid sideway, just in time to allow the fire to pass by him and disappear out of its extendable range. Morning stars are supposed to be melee weapons, who can predict that this one is equipped with such an eerie trick?

_We don't have any advantage here._

'Run!'

Jazz turns to the direction of Cabasa Bridge, only to see Viola stops at its entrance and does not walk across. Worried whether Jazz can handle it alone she has been looking back frequently. Upon seeing the fire coming out she knows they have a real threat.

_You use fire, right?_

'Huh! You're going to beg for mercy for this one!'

Sneering, she pulls an arrow from her quiver and knocks it on her bow. This time it is not a broadhead arrow. Its head is made of a crystal, filled with orange fluid – an explosive. Viola takes careful aim at the opened gate hung still above.

'_Blazing Strike_!'

The released arrow travels in an arc to Fermata's Cabasa Bridge-side entrance. The crystal shatters upon impact, releasing the fluid which immediately ignites and explodes. The shock waves pass into the bricks, making them vigorously vibrate beyond their withstanding limit and break. Powder and debris falls down onto the entrance, finished by a thunderous 'thud' when the gate falls and reseals the pathway, instantly separating Jazz and Tuba's parties apart. Viola lowers her bow, satisfied at her work. Hearing the sound of explosion, Beat, Allegretto, Polka, Frédéric and Claves turns around to look.

_We did it!_

Jazz walks closer and listens. There is no sound coming from the other side. Apart from the debris, now with a gate Tuba and his men can no longer get to Chorus Plains.

But then a small rock rolls down from the top. There are two loud knocks of metal hammering on bricks. In an outburst of wood and stone pieces, there stands Tuba, bearing his morning star at them, aggress written all over his face. The power of both him and his weapon are none other than monstrous. Behind him, there is a sudden wave of screams of horror. Through the mess Jazz sees the residents of Fermata, the subjects of Waltz, the once normal citizens consumed by mineral powder, are starting to break out, attacking the soldiers behind Tuba. His triple strike in clearing the way was too destructive that they destroyed Fermata's walls as well.

The only way now to save themselves, as well as the many lives in Chorus Plains and Ritardando is to cross the bridge and cut it down, so that none of those cursed creatures can get across the cliff. Jazz grabs Viola's hand and run to the bridge. Beat and the others are already halfway through, among them is Salsa the Agogo Forest guardian.

_Listen carefully, Tuba. I don't think I need to tell you that this is your last chance._

_Find them, and eliminate them all._

_... This is your last chance..._

'NO!'

Bellowing like an angry hippo, Tuba charges at the bridge with his morning star and jumps up high, at a height which does not match his bulky body. Jazz realizes what he is planning to do.

'Everybody brace yourself!'

Too late, Tuba flips his morning star upside-down and bolts down, crushing a large hole on the end of the bridge. The already old Cabasa Bridge disembodies and descends to the rushing river below, along with the eight people...


	3. Chapter 3 Fantaisie Impromptu

CHAPTER III

FANTAISIE-IMPROMPTU

'It's been four days already.' Allegretto says, looking worried. 'I hope that Polka and the others are okay.'

Viola however hears something else.

'Oh? "Polka and the others"? Not "Beat and the others"?'

Others may wonder what the big deal is, as both referring to the same group of people, but for Viola who has spent enough time with Allegretto will know that this is not a small deal. Allegretto has always been with his 'younger brother' Beat for years, and therefore logically speaking should use his name in referring the now missing four people. Now that he uses 'Polka and the others' it will then be too stupid not to notice that, in his heart, Polka is at a higher priority than Beat.

Allegretto looks away, avoiding Viola's eyes. He feels his chins burning.

'Wh-what's that supposed to mean?'

'I'm sure they're doing just fine. Look at us. We're managing. Look, Acro's saying cheer up, too.'

Her cute little partner leaps from her shoulder to his, making a meow sound. Strangely, this fellow seems to be able to understand how he feels. Allegretto forces up a smile to it.

After falling down to the river, everyone was struggling to get out of the current that no one had time to take care of others. By the time Allegretto got to the shore all he could find were Viola and the Andantino three. The rest four were nowhere to be found. His attempt to jump back and search for them was stopped by Jazz, saying that they might have been carried further downstream, and was absolutely impossible to find them at that time.

It turns out that the place now they are at is the Adagio Swamp, which is not far from their hideout. The best plan decided is to go there and regroup.

'Oh, hey, Jazz, by the way, what's the name of that river we fell into back there?'

'Fusion River.' It is Claves who answers. 'It carries rainfall from Mt. Rock down to the Blue Seas. The rich earth from Mt. Rock flows down with the water, so crops tend to grow very well in the nearby regions of the river.'

'That was in the past.' Jazz corrects her. 'Ever since Waltz started mining Mt. Rock things have changed a lot around this area.'

Everyone knows that this is related to Waltz's mineral powder scheme. Mining operation cannot be done without bombing, which can drastically change the landscape and environment. Trees will be chopped down, animals will lose their homes and the change of slope may cause draught or flooding.

A lifetime to build, but it only takes a moment to destroy. Everything human beings do has some effect on the environment, and ultimately that ends up affecting human society as well. Sometimes, humankind is such pitiful creatures.

According to Jazz there should be a small river past this swamp. Once they make it there, the rest of the way should not be a problem.

In music terminology, Adagio is one of many Italian tempo markings telling the performer how the speed of a piece should be. Literally meaning 'at ease', Adagio suggests 'slow and stately', which matches perfectly to this swamp. Travellers can walk leisurely to admire the wetland ecology – the hammocks, the aquatic vegetation, the frogs. At the same time, the slow-moving water is often difficult to spot out among solid ground. This may endanger their lives if they do not watch their steps.

Claves pauses at a particularly marshy, flooded path.

'Wait, we're going in here?'

'Is there a problem?'

Falsetto does not see any problem walking across it.

'N-no, but… it's just, well, filthy.'

Falsetto has expected Claves to have said something perhaps alligator or leeches may be in the path. She seriously hopes that Claves' minding such unimportant, trivial and feminine matter is not being a joke.

'Oh, come on. We can't get to the hideout without going through here.'

Claves looks around hoping to find another drier, cleaner alternative, but unfortunately there does not seem to be any. However, all the way they came here from several days ago their clothes and shoes are already covered in mud and dirt. What Falsetto does not understand is what harm it has getting a bit more in this path?

While the two women are having the silent argument, Viola marches on ahead, right into the muck.

'Come on, you two. Let's go!'

The best method to get moving is through action. Jazz, Falsetto and Allegretto follow Viola and go on. Claves, who has no other choice, takes a deep breath and splashes her way through. When she finally completes the challenge she looks as if she has swum across the mud water. Seeing her thoroughly routed look Falsetto laughs in her sleeve.

*****

'So, what news have you brought me, Tuba?'

'My lord, Fo-Fort Fermata is down, and… they're flooding Hanon Hills.'

When Tuba came back to Forte Castle he was totally battered, with none of his men returned. If it had not been his fire-emitting device in his morning star he would not be here anymore.

Waltz walks down his throne, looking thoroughly displeased.

'What about those people I told you to eliminate?'

He says in a deliberately slow pace, word by word. Tuba gulps.

'They were crossing Cabasa Bridge, and I didn't have time to stop them, so, I…'

'… what?'

'I… I destroyed the bridge.'

Waltz threateningly gains on Tuba, who can almost see his reflection in those purple eyes.

'And – what – about – the – Agogo – Forest – guardian?'

'She… she… f-fell…'

_SMACK!_

'I've no use of you anymore! Guards, take him out to be headed!'

Four soldiers come in to take Tuba away, two holding his arms and two supporting his weight. Realizing his end Tuba frantically struggles, his huge mass wobbling.

'Please! My lord! Give me another…!'

But he has no chance to say 'chance'. He is shocked to discover that he cannot produce any sound other than before-death choking. A spear-sword has pierced through his throat, its tip coming from the back of his neck. Such a small target, plus the challenge of struggling irregularly, Waltz still managed to hit at precise accuracy. His judgment and accuracy are proved to be formidable.

'Next time throw yourself into Fusion River and get rid of your stupidity! Throw him away!'

Waltz unplugs his sword and wipes it clean on Tuba's coat. The four soldiers drag the corpse out of the throne room when Legato comes in.

'My lord, what shall we do now?'

This shows that he has been eavesdropping outside, without offering any word in defending Tuba. Waltz does not point that out though.

'All we need to do is find the glowing agogos. This just proves how worthless Tuba really was. You lead half of our men out to Fort Fermata to get rid of that behemoth's mess, then get those glowing agogos back!'

*****

It is night time as Jazz's party arrives at Cantabile River.

If Fusion River is a masculine warrior, Cantabile is an elegant lady. The term literally means 'songlike'. In instrumental music, it indicates a particular style of playing designed to imitate the human voice. For 18th century composers, the term is often used to indicate a measured tempo and flexible playing. For later composers, especially in piano music, cantabile indicates the drawing out of one particular musical line against the accompaniment.

The best camp dish in such environment is fish. As a hunter, Viola makes use of some of her spare bow string to tie to a broadhead arrow's nock, then stands near the shore and shoots at those fish coming in her direction. Once succeeds all she has to do is to pull the string to retrieve the arrow and the caught fish. By repeating the same procedures six times, the dinner for the day is settled.

They gather around the campfire while having roasted fish. Cantabile River constantly delivers cool breeze to them.

'This area gets kind of cool at night.' Falsetto says. 'So, it's nice.'

'I really like the feel of this place a lot. It has the same smell as the place where I live.'

Viola's house in Chorus Plains is also close to a lake. Tired of having mouton she sometimes catches fish as an alternative. This is similar to what she is doing now.

'Are the animals that you left behind going to be all right?'

Back then talking about their respective lives Jazz remembers Viola mentioned that she breeds goats.

'Yeah, I'm sure they'll be completely fine. I mean, when I left them, they weren't fenced in or anything. And those goats are pretty smart, too.'

'I'm sure they are. But, no matter how smart they might be, I doubt they could guess the reason their master hasn't come back yet… is because she fell into a river.'

This sort of words coming from the serious Jazz sounds odd. It is hard to tell whether this is a joke or a normal statement. Nevertheless, it is already hard for Jazz to have the motivation in chatting anything apart from Andantino's mission. Viola laughs.

'You're probably right about that.'

Besides her, Allegretto has been eating quietly without a sound. Judging from his eating speed Viola can tell his mind is on something else.

'What's bothering you, Allegretto? I know what it is. I bet you're thinking about Polka. Right?'

Allegretto still says nothing, and his expression does not match that of a boy thinking about a girl.

'What's the matter?'

'Oh!' Allegretto looks like he never heard her calling him all the time. 'Nothing, really.'

After all he is not a kid, and has his own right to keep secrets. Regarding this matter, Viola is quite open-minded. She knows forcing them can never get the answer. Teenagers usually will spill their thoughts, when the time is right.

The next day they finally make their way out of Adagio Swamp. Instead of flatland, the area up ahead surely looks inhospitable. The paths drastically changes from muddy to sandy as if having not received any rain for a couple years. Decorating the area are giant mushrooms and fungi in any colour they can think of. If the challenge is not enough, there are putrid spores growing along the paths, releasing seeds that are too small for human eyes to see.

In this colourful small forest of rainbow, there is a powerful sense of dread.

'We'll reach the town of Andante just after these woods.' Falsetto says.

'We're finally back home.'

Claves is really looking forward to a bath, so that she can get rid of all the dirt on her and her clothes. Jazz urges Viola and Allgretto, who hesitates in stepping into the groves.

'Don't worry. Stick close to me, don't touch anything and you'll be fine.'

That is the last thing they dare doing here. The five of them proceed.

A woodblock is essentially a small piece of slit drum made from a single piece of wood and used as a percussion instrument. If struck with a stick a characteristic percussive sound will be produced.

The woodblock may also be the oldest musical instrument known to man, given that it would have been possible to construct and play this idiophone instrument before the Bronze Age. In the West, the orchestral woodblock is generally made from teak or another hardwood. The dimensions of this instrument may vary considerably, although it is always a rectangular block of wood with one or sometimes two longitudinal cavities.

It turns out the sound of striking the trunks of these groves here is very similar to that of striking a woodblock. That is how the name of this place comes – Woodblock Groves.

Same as yesterday, Allegretto has been staying at the back of the group, not participating in the conversation. The time when they take a break beside the path, Viola quietly approaches him.

'Why so blue, _Retto_?'

'Viola, I need to speak to you and Jazz alone, now.'

His feature is perfectly serious. Now that there are only Viola and himself, Allegretto finally speaks out his thought. Fortunately she does not ask any question.

'I'll get him.'

Jazz is with Falsetto and Claves. Viola lies that Allegretto has a few new moves that would like to have his opinions. Jazz says his excuse to Falsetto and Claves and go to Allegretto with Viola.

'What is it, Allegretto? You've something to say to me?'

'I've been thinking about this for a while. The people that attacked us at the castle gate, I get the feeling they thought we were part of Andantino.'

Jazz eyes widen as he hears this.

'What?'

'Before we had said anything, that leading old man had already said "I see the whole group has arrived". At that time, we only thought he could be someone in authority in the castle, so we asked whether he can let us see Count Waltz, but then he said "We already know all about your plan".'

Allegretto looks like he has been dying to tell someone about this for a long time. He continues.

'We had no idea what "plan" he was talking about, but I guess I know now. He was referring to you Andantino's plan of rescuing Salsa. And there's more, there're people wanting to see Waltz every day, why did he stand guard not at other time but just that right moment? Think about it, the time we escaped prison not too long, then you were at Hanon Hills. It means he knew you were going to break into Forte Castle that day, and that time.'

There is a very dark silence follows. Viola nods.

'You have a point. No matter what they might say about Waltz, even he wouldn't give orders to kill ordinary citizens who were just coming to visit him.'

'Exactly. That guy sounded like he knew that someone was supposed to be showing up at that time. And he was waiting for them. Unless I'm mistaken, Jazz, it sounds like you might have an information leak.'

'What?'

'Yeah.' Viola deduces further. 'It's possible you've got a spy working in your group.'

Jazz has a quick glance at where Falsetto and Claves are to make sure that none of the words reaches their ears. This is even shocker than his first time learning the true purpose of Waltz's flooding the market with mineral powder. A betrayer right beside him, for all those time, and he has been feeding this person vital information about each of their plan and mission without realizing it.

And all those time, this person has been constantly reporting to the one hidden in the shadow about their every move.

'But Claves and Falsetto were the only ones who knew about that mission.'

_That would mean…_

For the rest of the way out of Woodblock Groves, Jazz does not know how he gets back. He only let his feet take him wherever he goes without thinking. Despite of this, his expression has always been stern and serious, so Falsetto and Claves do not find anything wrong from him.

It is not until Claves pulls his sleeve that he is back.

'At last, we made it. I didn't think we'd ever get back after we fell into that river.'

Allegretto looks around incredulously. This is only a rocky and uninhabitable region near a waterfall no matter observed from any angle.

'Um… what do mean "we made it"? There's nothing here.'

'It's no wonder you're confused.' Falsetto laughs. 'You can't see it, but the town of Andante is right under your feet.'

'It's underground?'

Viola starts inspecting the ground thoroughly to look for any sign of human activities, but she cannot find anything. Being an antigovernment organization if someone like her can even discover anything then it will not be long before the government digs them all out.

'Yes, though it's not that impressive.' Jazz says. 'But it's more than enough for us to live comfortably.'

'After all, we are a rebel army. We're supposed to be underground, right?'

Falsetto's eyes roll at Claves's rhetorical question. Jazz, who is introducing their place to Viola and Allegretto, does not hear that.

'This is Andantino's headquarters. Everyone here is one of us. Please, make yourselves at home. Falsetto, would you mind showing our guests around the town?'

_Me again…_

'No problem.'

'Okay. We'll go on ahead. When you get tired of sightseeing, come and join us.'

Falsetto leads Viola and Allegretto ahead, but he notices that Jazz and Claves are not coming and are heading for another direction.

'Where are they doing?'

'To the house we've been using as a base. It's right on the shore of Lake Reverb. Basically it's our hideout. It's a short walk from here. All right, let's get going.'

It does not take long when they stops at a dead end in a tunnel into the mountain. Falsetto taps on the end rock surface in a series of rhythms. The sound produced is not the solid and low-pitch hammering but like metal clinging against each other. To Allegretto and Viola's surprise the end actually moves away, revealing an underground world.

'So it's in a cave, huh?'

'Wow.'

'It's nothing special on the inside, really. Anyway, let's go on.'

The scale of this place is not for a mere gang of rebels. From the number of people here it can be called a town. Their main water supply is from an underground waterfall that keeps them from thirst. The cave is divided neatly into different areas. Barrack, residents, armoury, market, food storage are all arranged according to their functions and frequency of usage. For every distance now and then there are soldiers standing guard along the road. Before coming Allegretto pictured in his mind that Andante should be a place only for men, but there are equal number of women helping out here, including young children.

Falsetto leads them to the central district. All the people turn to salute to her and say 'Miss Falsetto!' or 'welcome back!' at the same time. It needs not to be told that how much respect she has among the rebels. From what Viola observes, Falsetto is not that kind of person that laughs and jokes, rather she should be a strict but very fair role model for her fellow soldiers.

'I never know that Andantino has such logistics forces.'

Viola says as she follows.

'How long has Andantino been here?'

'Not long after Waltz was enthroned. Before he's dead everyone here has to fight, this is the destiny for all of us. As long as one is opposing him, we welcome anyone to join us.'

Regardless of sex and age, no wonder there are females and children here. In fact, fighting is not limited to holding a weapon charging towards the enemies, rear-services like preparing armours, collecting food, even as trivial as doing the washings, are equally important, not to mention determining their battle plans, managing the finance and others.

Falsetto takes them around to introduce the rough layout of Andante. Viola soon finds her place in the archery room when she sees some new bows and arrows, while Allegretto intends to invent a new move with the aid of the equipment in the barrack.

After a quick word, Falsetto let them do whatever Andante can offer before going to inform Jazz about the arrangement.

*****

Impromptu Op. Posth. 66: No. 4

Fantaisie-Impromptu

This is a beautifully flowing melody in C-sharp minor composed around 1835.

Despite its beauty and fantasy – true to its name – Chopin did not intend to release this piece to the public.

In fact, it's possible that he had asked his friend, Julian Fontana, to burn the score after his death.

It is said that the reason for this was that it resembled Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata.

Chopin might have been aware of that fact and refrained from publishing the piece to avoid such criticism.

But six years after Chopin's death, it was published by Julian Fontana as opus 66.

This must have been very difficult for Fontana.

He probably spent a great deal of time worrying if it was best for him to respect the wishes of his friend, or if it was right for him to keep this masterpiece from the rest of the world.

In any case, we should be grateful for Fontana's decision.

If he had not published that score, we who live in the present day would never have been able to immerse ourselves in this wonderful world of fantasy.

There might have been other compositions that were threatened with destruction just like this one.

Though Chopin's request might have seemed reasonable at the time, we should consider ourselves fortunate that pieces like Fantaisie-Impromptu were spared.

*****

Jazz is brooding.

The house by Reverb Lake, it has been the safest place to talk about mission plans since he has made the leader of Andantino.

This sanctuary, however, is contaminated forever by the presence of a spy, who is going to be either one of his two most trustable people. He wants deadly for the answer, but at the same time he does not want to find out the painful truth.

This path to the house, he sincerely hopes that it will never end.

'What is it, Jazz? It seems like you have something on your mind.'

Claves watches anxiously at him. Already a person of the quiet type, Jazz is now even muter than usual.

'Claves, what do you think of Falsetto?'

Being suddenly asked, Claves is slightly confused.

'Huh? What do you mean?'

'We have an information leak on our hands. There's a spy within our ranks, and, I think, that it may very well be Falsetto.'

There are two strategies Jazz uses here. Firstly, by bringing up this without warning, assuming that Claves is the spy, being caught off-guard so suddenly, she is bound to show at least some degree of uneasiness somewhere. Secondly, by saying out the thinking of someone else is the spy, the real one should feel secure about her undercover and, in order to save herself, may agree on what he believes, only to Claves widens her eyes.

'What?'

'You don't think she's been acting strange lately? She's being oddly combative… especially towards you. Think about it. She never used to be like that.'

Though looking at the front, Jazz is keeping a close eye on any small movement of Claves.

'Well, it could be that Falsetto is just jealous of me.'

'I sincerely hope that's all it is. Even so, there is definitely something she's hiding from me. I've known her since childhood, so we can tell almost everything about each other.'

_Everything…_

'But wait, if there's a spy among us, wouldn't the guards have been watching the dungeon? Remember, our plan was to infiltrate the dungeon directly through the secret passage.'

Last time they went to Hanon Hills, before they had gone in Salsa and the others had already come out herself. That means all the way through they had not faced any resistance from Forte Castle.

Hearing this, Jazz looks considerably relieved.

'Yes, you're right. Thanks, Claves. I was just about to lose my faith in Falsetto. I think I'd better go to say sorry to her. Would you mind going on your own first?'

Even if Claves would have wanted to say 'yes', she cannot.

'No, I wouldn't. Make sure she can get your feelings, Jazz.'

Jazz pats on her shoulder and turns back to the direction to Andante. Gazing at his back disappearing behind the trees, Claves sighs deeply as she continues the way to the house, now herself alone.

She joined Andantino as an ordinary soldier like others. Using her skill as a rapier-wielder she quickly earned her position as captain, and eventually equals to Falsetto. Despite of that, because of her comparably less experienced than Falsetto, naturally there have been rumours about Jazz's favouring her unfairly. If she could choose again, she would rather be a low-rank fighter than being what she is now.

At the thought of this, a powerful sense of loneliness aches in her heart, when at this moment there is a ruffling sound of grass within the woods area by the path. Claves draws out her rapier, holding it in front of her.

'Who's there?'

But once she turns to the direction she feels her blood freezes in dread – that was only a distraction!

_A trap!_

Before she can correct her mistake there is a pain on her left shin. A few tiny needles have penetrated her skin and pierced into her leg. They are very small, and gold in colour. This is the trademark of…

'You really haven't changed a bit, Claves. That's why you always lost to me.'

The voice is clear and pure like fountain water, but at the same time it is rid of any emotion, like the ice frozen for thousands of years under a chilly lake. Claves turns around to where the voice comes from, but the poison on her leg is spreading so fast that she drops to the ground.

'Rondo? Why?'

Silvery armour plates covering all over the body, lilac hair tied into a pony tail by a purple rose, skin white as snow, coldness seen on the elegant features, is the first assassinate of Forte Castle. In her hand is a large sword, blade made into triangular form.

'Your identity is already suspected by Jazz. I was ordered to kill you. Don't take it personally.'

White hot knives are cutting every inch of Claves' body. Her vision is becoming foggy. The surroundings and Rondo are dissolving into a whirl of dull colour.

Rondo steps to the fallen Claves. Though wearing metallic boots there is no sound of footsteps coming from her feet.

'Farewell.'

Eyebrows not frowning one bit, Rondo drives her swords into Claves…

'Falsetto? Why're you here?'

There is only one way to the Reverb Lake house from Andante. Naturally, Jazz meets Falsetto on midway as he backtracks, but should Falsetto not be with Viola and Allegretto?

'I was just about to find you. They said they want to hang around in Andante for a little while longer.'

'… I see.'

Somehow there is an embarrassing silence in the air. The two of them look at each other's feet.

…_Make sure she can get your feelings…_

'Well then, I think I'd better go over and see how they're doing it. Claves should be in the house waiting. Tell her I'll come back soon.'

Jazz scolds himself inside his heart. He has been practicing the lines in his heart all the way back, yet in front of the person he cannot bring himself to say them.

Falsetto walks past him. Jazz cannot help but turns around.

'Falsetto.'

'Yes?'

_Tell her… tell her… tell her…!_

Yet this is even harder than facing a whole bunch of Forte soldiers and Tuba. Falsetto is waiting for him. From her eyes, he knows that she _knows_ he has something desperately want to say.

'Er… nothing.'

This time without looking back, Jazz walks away. He can feel Falsetto staring at his back, full of disappointment. Sentiment is really not his best subject in Andantino.

_Jazz, you idiot._

This thought is same to Falsetto as she goes back to her business.

Being childhood friends, being comrades, that is never enough if one does not say the feelings to the other. Misunderstanding sometimes may come from silly matters like this, and considering they have to trust each other especially in fighting against Forte, they should have settled this down just then. During their youth they did not feel any embarrassment in spilling their inner most secrets. When do they become like this?

Is it concerning men's dignity?

_If so, Jazz really is the biggest jerk in the world._

Her thoughts are interrupted when she sees a woman lying on the road. Blood soaks over half of her clothes. That pink hair tied in braids, that feminine figure, that rapier…

'Claves!'

Falsetto rushes to her and helps her up. It is now that Falsetto notices Claves have wounds not only at the back but on her chest as well, as if brutally pierced through by something sharp.

_Who could have done this!_

'F… Falsetto…'

Claves struggles to speak. Falsetto is shocked at how weak her voice is.

'I'm the… the spy from Waltz.'

'What d'you think you're doing? Don't speak!'

Having an information leak, with only three people involved, Falsetto knows it is not herself, and not Jazz, the only remaining one will have no choice but to be the spy. Hearing Claves' confession she does not feel surprised. The strange thing is, seeing how fatally wounded Claves is now, all previous grudge towards her vaporizes on the spot.

'I… 've to say, Waltz's wrong…. and Jazz's right. It's me who… leaked the info, but… I never mentioned the… secret passage.'

Falsetto understands – Claves did not want to betray Waltz and Forte, but then after working in Andantino she gradually turns to Jazz and her side. More unwillingly to betray Jazz, the only thing Claves could do was to conceal part of the mission plan to Forte, such that Andantino's plan could still work out.

All those time, Claves has been bearing all these feelings to herself alone, and not only Falsetto did not try to offer help, instead all she did was being sarcastic and acid.

'Claves, I'm… I'm so sorry for everything! Who did this to you?'

There is no time to go find anyone. Injury to this level no one can possibly survive. What keeps Claves's heart pounding is her strong will.

'It's… Ron..do.'

Claves's fingers reach out, and Falsetto understands. She picks up the rapier and put it in Claves' hand.

'Defeat Waltz, careful of… _Serenade_… tell Jazz I'm… s… sor….'

Before finishing the sentence, her head drops.

_No... NO!_

Whether it is moaning or howling, Falsetto is not aware of the sound coming from her throat. She cannot breathe. She thinks she is about to suffocate.

'CLAVES –––––––––!'

Freely allowing bitter tears running down her cheeks, Falsetto feels regret encroaching all over her body, almost bursting out from her chest.

_How come… why… why…!_

Claves – she had been giving her nothing but hard times, envying her climbing up to the position of lieutenant in such a short time, gaining the attention of Jazz –

_Yet… I have never tried to know her…_

Drowned in endless remorse, Falsetto gazes down at her hands. These gauntlets have been with her since she joined Andantino. The first day she wore them, she even vowed that she would use them to defeat all evil.

_This is all rubbish! What kind of power this is for!_

_Can't even protect one person…!_

In the thought of guilt, Falsetto cries her heart out. She puts Claves' body down, and stands up.

– _How can I ever forgive such thing!_

She has to drag out the culprit behind these tragedies – the merciless woman that spreads death under Waltz' command.

The coldblooded assassin is already nowhere in sight. In fierce rage, hands clenches into fists, Falsetto gathers herself up, beginning to track down the enemy.


	4. Chapter 4 Grande Valse Brillante

CHAPTER IV

GRANDE VALSE BRILLANTE

In a snowy garden surrounded by high castle walls, flowers bloom in spite of the cold. A gentle snowfall dusts the ground as Beat wanders around the grounds.

'Oh, Polka! There you are! I've been looking all over the place for you, you know?'

Noticing her leaning against the wrought iron gate, Beat goes to greet her. White mist comes out of his mouth as he speaks in the cold weather.

'Oh. Hi, Beat. I'm sorry about that.'

Polka has been looking at flowers a lot lately. Even a child like Beat can tell that her mind is obviously on other things.

'You don't have to be worried. I'm sure Retto and the others are doing okay! He's not the type to croak from just falling off a bridge.'

Polka's eyebrows loosen.

'You have a point there. I'm sure you're right. Thank you, Beat.'

Her smile is just like the sun in winter. Beat also leans against the iron gate beside her. The reason there is no one except them in a garden this size is that it is privately owned by the one who rescued them.

'Still we were pretty lucky back there, don't you think?'

'If we hadn't been picked up by him, I don't know what would've happened.'

Eyes gazing into distance, her mind flies back to four days ago…

*****

'Thank you so much for helping us like this.'

Sitting on a sofa looking very like to be used for nobles, Frederic bows to the young man opposite. Beside the musician are Polka, Beat and Salsa, who is too busy observing the luxurious surroundings.

'Don't mention it. It was nothing.'

'Is there any way we can repay you?' Polka asks. 'You did save our lives.'

'Yeah, you've already done so much for us. Is there anything we can do to help out? This little squirt here can wash dishes for you or something.'

Beat casts an eye on the elder Agogo Forest guardian. The black hat that once covered that layered pink hair is gone.

'Hey, no fair! You can't start calling me "little squirt" just because my hat washed away!'

Beat looks terribly pleased with himself as he pretends to ignore Salsa's little fist gesturing to punch him.

After being carried away by Fusion River, she and the rest three people here were found in the sea by the sailors on this ship. Thinking it as just an ordinary merchant ship, the four of them climbed onboard, happy that they could finally get out of the wet. By the time they were invited to the waiting room to be greeted (Frederic dried all their clothes with a flick of his wand, deeply impressing Salsa), everything around them from the carpet to small objects like clocks are all at first-class, not matter how they put it, this ship should not be of any ordinary merchant ship.

The young man good-naturedly at the funny entertainment. His clothes are mostly in shades of white and gold, apparently someone regal.

'At least it sounds like you're all in good spirits. But I'm afraid there's nothing you could help with. Really, you should probably get some rest.'

He stands up and delivers some instructions to the sailors outside the room before suddenly remembering something.

'Oh, and allow me to introduce myself. My name is Crescendo. I suppose you could say I'm the captain of this ship.'

No wonder everyone listens to his words here.

'Cre-Cresh-shendo?' Beat repeats, but no matter how he tries has problem in pronouncing the 'sh' sound. 'Gee. That's kind of a tough name to say. Couldn't we call you something else? Something easier to say?'

If these words had come out from an adult it would have sounded rather offensive, however from an eight-year-old innocent child it would be different. Still Polka thinks Beat had better to be more polite in front of this unusual captain.

'Beat, please, don't be silly. Besides, I thought you said you were good at remembering people's names.'

Though putting up a smile, there is a power in her words that Beat knows that Polka is being serious, so he says no more. Frederic observes Crescendo in a polite manner.

'I must say, you're very young to be the captain of a ship.'

Salsa jumps at the word 'captain', looking as if she has never had a good look at Crescendo before.

'You're a captain?'

She gets up and walks over to him and, while he watches on in surprise, inspects his hands.

'Hey, hold on now. This guy doesn't even have a hook or an eye patch. There's no way he's a real captain!'

Her words clearly shock everyone.

'_Guy'…?_

_Just what does she think she's saying to the one that saved her?_

Afraid that Salsa may upset Crescendo, Beat attempts to apologize for her behaviour.

'I'm sorry, Captain. She doesn't know her manners sometimes.'

Just as the words left his mouth, he thinks he has just found the most suitable title for Crescendo.

'Hey, maybe I'll just call you Captain for now. I could remember your name no problem, but you need to show respect to the ship's captain.'

Beat raises his right hand and salutes to Crescendo, who laughs again at his cute posture.

'Hahaha. Feel free to call me whatever you'd like. Well then, for the time I suggest you get some rest.'

Frederic knows that they are dismissed, and the four of them gets to their feet and leave. The sailors waiting outside lead the way to their respective rooms. Polka and Salsa shares one, while Frederic and Beat shares another one. Once in contact of the comfortable bed Salsa is quickly out like a light. Her tiny chest rises and falls in repose rhythm.

Polka however is not in the mood to sleep.

_I wonder if Allegretto and the others are all right._

Along with him should be Jazz, Falsetto, Claves and Viola. All of them are better fighters than she is. Getting out of Fusion River should not be much of a problem to them.

_But…_

Pressing down her anxious, Polka sits up on her bed.

_Maybe some fresh air will cheer me up._

Not hoping to wake Salsa up, Polka closes the door silently and walks out. She takes the stairway up to the deck. The ship is sailing before the wind, revealing its hexagonal insignia referencing a snowflake. At the prow is an exquisite sculpture of some kind of God figure.

It is night time already. Snow floats down onto the deck and into the sea. This is the first time she sees snow since she was born. Though chillingly cold, the beauty of the scenery is like that from a fairy tale.

She takes a deep breath of the refreshing air. There is a salty smell of the ocean, reminding her of the breezes back in Tenuto.

_Is mum doing okay?_

Counting on her finger, she has left home almost two weeks already. Her mother must be very worried about her, wondering whether she is eating properly or being treated well by other people. In her heart, Polka swears that if she can make it back to Tenuto, she must be nice to her mother for the rest of her life.

Unexpectedly she is not the only one out here at the night.

'So the world is all just Frederic's dream, is it?'

Polka approaches the musician, who is at the prow, seemingly meditating.

'Good evening, Frederic. You still haven't woken up from your dream yet?'

Polka giggles as she says. Upon hearing her voice Frederic looks up.

'Oh, hello, Polka. Are you having trouble sleeping?'

'… Yes. I'm still worried about the others.'

Polka speaks out her feelings. In front of Frederic, she somehow believes that she can trust him.

'Polka, there was something I said to you before… about the way everything in the world slowly fades away, gradually losing its colour.'

She recalls their first met in Tenuto.

'Yes, I can remember.'

'But, since I've come to this place, I have begun to feel as if that is somehow being reversed.'

'Hmm?' Polka says, puzzled. 'What do you mean?'

'Well, compared to when I first came to this world… now, when I look around, I feel as if everything in this world is becoming more vivid, more clear.'

Knowing that Polka is listening closely without interrupting, he continues, looking at the sea as he says.

'Could that be the proof I sought? Does it mean that this world, that I believe to be a dream, is slowly becoming reality? Or is it only proof that I, myself, am slipping away? Fading away at a speed faster than the world is fading?'

Polka looks mildly dismayed by this.

'For example, I find myself wondering about whether the others are all right. Not long ago, I really wouldn't have cared what happened to them. After all, this was just a dream to me. But now, I'm genuinely concerned. I don't know why, but I feel a strong sense of solidarity, a connection with the people of this world.'

The ship sails past a few icebergs. Frederic closes his eyes, waiting for Polka to laugh again for his dream theory or blaming his cold-heartedness.

'That's okay.' She says gently and calmly. 'I think that's probably normal. After all, it's only natural to worry about companions you've spent a lot of time with.'

'You know, before I was afflicted with illness, everything around me seemed so meaningless. But ever since I learned I didn't have much longer to live, even the little things in the world around me began to shine.'

_Like the sound of wood crackling in a fireplace, the smell of a campfire, leaves slowly floating down a stream, the gentle sound of falling snow._

'Now that I think about it, it was probably because I had begun to fade rapidly. Because I, myself, was approaching my death… just like Emilia did.'

'Emilia?'

Judging from Frederic's expression, Polka can tell that this name must be related to someone very important to him.

'My sister.' Frederic this time looks into Polka's eyes. 'She was fourteen when she was struck down by tuberculosis and passed away. The same age as you.'

Polka lowers her head.

'Your sister was fourteen, just like me when she… I'm sorry.'

'How disheartening must it have been for her to be forced to accept inescapable fate? She must have had so many hopes and dreams.'

There is a moment of reflection. Frederic's brows furrows, his hands clench into fists.

_Why does God allow such things happen to good people? Taking away even her chance to live._

_Why?_

Polka looks at him sympathetically. This feeling of losing a dear family member, her mother may soon have to bear that also.

_Poor Frederic…_

'It is sad, but everyone dies eventually. It's just that for some people, like Emilia and me, it happens a little bit earlier, that's all. Besides, in a way Emilia still lives on, doesn't she?

_Lives on?_

Frederic looks at her, calmer now, but hoping for an answer to this. Polka smiles.

'She lives on inside your heart, Frederic, and she lives in the wonderful music that your heart creates. She also lives on inside all the people of the world whose hearts are moved when they listen to your music.'

Through her brother's melodies, Emilia will never really die, and will touch the hearts of every generation to come. She will live on, forever.

'I think that's simply wonderful. Frederic, do you need any more proof that she's still alive than the thought of that?'

Frederic has a strange feeling at this moment. This girl in front of him overlaps with the shadow of Emilia – their age, their personality, their fate…

_Can she possibly be…?_

'You know, Polka, whenever I am with you, I feel like I'm talking to Emilia. I think that perhaps Emilia is saying the very same thing to me. Thank you, Polka. I believe you've taught me something very important tonight.'

_Very important, indeed._

Frederic raises his top hat and leaves. Polka watches him departs in silence.

_Frederic, I don't know what it is, but there's a mysterious appeal about you._

_Since I met you, my way of thinking has changed quite a bit. Although I didn't realize it before, I think I've just been dwelling on the past, and ignoring the future, because thinking about the future is just too painful when I know I'm going to die soon._

_But you told me when we met that this whole word existed inside your dream, right?_

_At first I thought were teasing me by saying that this was your dream, but now, I actually think that it's a really beautiful idea._

_And now I realize, that by believing in you, it's the same as believing in the future. It's especially true for someone like me, someone who can use magic. Knowing you helps me be more positive about the future, and what I need to do._

_I'm the one who should be thanking you, Frederic. You've taught me something very important too._

Suddenly there is a loud crash, shaking the entire ship. Polka almost loses her balance.

_What was that?_

This vibration did not seem to be coming from the inside of the ship. The warning immediately wails while she sees sailors in the cabin dash up to the deck, all holding weapons. Among the flock of white sailor clothing she spots out a blue long coat and a yellow raincoat.

'Frederic! Beat!'

She runs to her two companions, who see her as well.

'What's going on?'

'They say we have trouble! Come on!'

The three of them join the other sailors to the upper quarterdeck. It is a ghastly scene. The tail of the ship is crashed directly by the prow of another ship. All wooden boards in the collided area are broken. The main sail of that ship is marked by crossbones beneath a huge skull.

_Pirates?_

Frederic's assumption is soon proved to be correct. Flooding onto their deck from the hostile ship are men wearing eye patches and holding long cutlasses. All of them have the trademark of skull-crossbones on their chests. Without waiting for any signal they quickly move in for the kill.

Though caught-off in surprise, the white sailors disciplinarily set up a defence line across the quarterdeck immediately.

'Men of Baroque! Charge!'

Like the roaring of a lion, a determined voice unifies the sailors' heart as they also raise their weapons and charge ahead. Both sides start a fierce fight at the quarterdeck, advancing and retreating in equal turns.

'Captain Crescendo!'

Frederic yells over the battle cries and metal clanging as he, Beat and Polka squeezes their way through.

'We'll keep them occupied!'

'It's far too dangerous! These pirates, even their underlings are very strong!'

They are no soldiers, and they are his guests. He has the responsibility to keep them safe!

Beat turns his clarinet to a rifle, and shows it to Crescendo.

'Hey, that's no way for a captain to talk! Don't worry about a thing. Just leave to us!'

'If they get here none of us will survive.' Frederic draws his wand. 'We do this for you, as well as us.'

Crescendo hesitates, but deep in his heart he knows that what Frederic says is correct. Even the pirates do not kill them they would make them captives or torture them to death.

Time is running out.

'All right. I'll do everything I can. Good luck!'

Crescendo returns to the crowd of people. Beat and Polka listen to Frederic's orders.

'Right, our first priority is to keep the pirates from boarding. Beat, you find a good spot to get clear shots. Polka, you stay at the back and heal anyone hurt.'

'I understand!'

'I will'

Beat runs to the foot of the main mast and climbs up. There are already wounded sailors lying on the deck, and more are being carried away from the frontline. Polka summons her magic to help every one of them. Frederic marches into the frontline, not a trace of mercy in his eyes.

_No one is going to die in war in my dream._

Even facing strong resistance the pirates are attacking wave after wave without ceasing. From their number of men they are no common gang.

'Looks like Baroque has no men to fight! This is no place for you, sissy!'

Thinking Frederic as an easy target, several pirates aggressively turns their cutlasses to him.

This is a big mistake.

_You foolish creatures…!_

'There's power within my melodies, listen!'

Wand-arm pulled backward, a magical circle appears under Frederic's feet. Within ten feet of radius the deck surface is dyed in a hellish green hue, from which black vapour is rising.

'_Piu Grave_!'

The wand is thrusted upward. There is like an echo of valkryies magically reaching everyone's ears to their hearts. A dome of bone-chilling green energy erupts upward, illuminating the dark sea into a shade of death. Pirates that are caught in the dome are all thrown away, some falling to the water at no hope of being recovered, but the most horrifying part is those who land on the deck and have survived long enough for others to see that blood is spurting out of their eyes, ears, nostrils and mouths in an unstoppable manner. Limbs twitching uncontrollably, their faces are distorted, skin covered in burnt blisters. Witnessing the power, both sides are too shocked to continue the fight.

_Piu Grave_ is basically an alternation of Frederic's signature move _Orzel Bialy_. The wand movements and magic mechanisms are both very similar. The differences are that _Piu Grave_ makes use of dark energy while _Orzel Bialy_ uses pure, positive energy of nature, and the former can hit all targets within the effective range when the later one is a one-on-one move.

In just one around, Frederic has cleared fifteen pirates out of the way. The pirates are stunned – there should not be anyone so powerful on Baroque Ship!

_This man is no sissy!_

Those who are ready to strike quickly coward out of the way, no one dare to try out that torment on their body. Seeing the whole gang is intimidated by merely one man who is not even a soldier, their leader (distinguished by his blue headband) is simply furious.

'What are you afraid of? Attack! The one that kills him will be promoted two ranks! TWO…!'

His thought stops here as blood gashes out from his forehead. His corpse falls to the deck and moves no more, apparently hit by something small which drilled into his brain and killed him.

'Watch out for snipers!'

A pirate shouts out to warn the others. His decision has successfully captured his fellow pirates' attention, and the sniper on Baroque Ship as well. A sniper bullet burst out from his right temple, his fresh corpse joining his former leader.

All pirates are now in disarray as they try to find shelters, which is not easy on the deck. Standing in open area means being the perfect target practice for snipers. Not to say they cannot locate them in the dark, none of them carry long-range weapon to counterfire!

'Ha! This is gonna hurt, Mr. pirates!'

Sitting on the main sail taking aim, Beat is amused by the looks on those pirates as they push, shove or try to use others as shields. Beat snipes and reloads and snipes again, every time the trigger is pulled the target falls down to be stepped onto by others. The true nature of these sea thieves is simple – they do not care about each other.

_This is our chance!_

'Prepare to board! Kill all the pirates!'

Holding his personal mace and shield, Crescendo and Frederic leads the sailors at the front and jumps aboard. The side has turned from now on. In another flash of green light the valkyries mourn for those caught in the dome. Frederic is about to unleash the third _Piu Grave_ when a voice coverers the commotion down.

'Who dares crossing me Captain Dolce?'

The speaker turns out to be a female. Out come from behind the pirates is a woman in her early thirties, wearing a black pirate hat and eye patch over her right eye. In replace of her left hand is a metal hook, hidden behind the feminine mask is iron-hard cruelty. She has two bodyguards with her, their headbands are in red and white respectively.

Once in the sight of her, all the pirates immediately rearranged into formations around her. The term 'dolce' means 'sweet' in English. If it had not been the eye patch, Dolce might have looked pretty beautiful, but using it on a pirate it on the contrary adds thrills, especially when her normal right hand is not holding a cutlass but a long-barrelled hand cannon. Crescendo's sailors also form ranks behind him.

'So, you've been having your way with my men, have you?'

'Dolce! She's the boss of this gang of pirates!' Crescendo adds the last sentence for Frederic.

'At last we met. Who do you wish to fight? Me? Or my lieutenants? Or you want us all to take you on?'

She raises her cannon, moving between Frederic and Crescendo. Her two guards are like a pair of hungry werewolves waiting for their master to give the signal to sink their teeth into the preys. Dolce's gang is Baroque's biggest threat in the sea, capturing her would no doubt be a blessing to Baroque's citizens. Crescendo thinks hard on how to achieve so, his eyes keep focusing on the big muzzle.

Frederic can use magic, he knows once he saw that, but now they are almost two-to-sixty.

'I'm sure you don't want to lose anymore man, Dolce! I'll make you a deal in my name of the prince of Baroque, if you are willing to surrender and disband, I can spare everyone's lives!'

He raises his volume so that the rest can hear as well. He can see through some pirates' eyes that they are slightly moved by the offer.

Dolce's cannon points at Crescendo's chest.

'You don't think I may accidentally blow a hole in you?'

'No, because I'm sure Frederic here will take care of you.'

Dolce too saw what her men became when they caught in Frederic's spell attack. She smiles a 'sweet' smile – always a dangerous sign.

'Very well. _Dead Man's Tale_!'

Without warning fire burst out from the muzzle along with an ear-deafening bang. As soon as Crescendo and Frederic see the firelight both of them reflectively dives away to two sides. Bullets' travelling speed is too fast for naked eyes to see, yet there are still ways to stay alive. The time for Dolce to pull the trigger is short, however her pointer finger has to move no matter what, which is the most important signal.

But the cannonball-sized bullet passed above them.

Dolce was never planning to shoot them. Realizing what her real target is, Frederic and Crescendo subconsciously turn to look at where the bullet is heading.

'BEAT!'

A fireball erupts at where the bullet hit the sail pole, which explodes into pieces. The sail catches the fire and burns, falling down along with the debris. Before they can locate whether Beat is among them, Frederic's magical ability senses something coming at their back.

'Crescendo, behind!'

Maintaining at an impossible angle, Frederic leans his upper body backward, face facing the dark sky above, just in time for a dozen of large needle-pikes passing inches just above their noses. A smell of rotten fish flows into his nostrils, hinting that these trinkets are fed with powerful poison. Hearing Frederic's warning, Crescendo quickly holds his broad shield up to protect his back. The pikes nail through the aluminium outer layer to the inner wood level. Such small weapons can deal this damage, this is out of both men's prediction.

The attack Dolce used is called _Shark Bite_. The needle-pikes are smeared with a kind of venom made from a highly toxic sea plant. Once hit there is no cure. The trigger of firing them is hidden in her hook. Believing this should have taken the two of them off guard, Dolce is also taken back by the reaction of Frederic. This man can use magic, the longer he lives the greater dangerous they will be in.

_Got to take him down right now!_

'Dead Man's…!'

But Frederic is prepared for this. The same move will not work twice.

_I'll take you all down!_

'This will be a hard lesson!'

Below Frederic's feet a different magical circle appears, whose markings are emitting a sea-blue light. He reaches out his left hand where a ring of orbits appears out of thin air on his palm. He locks it onto the main sail of Dolce's ship.

'_Legion Fulminante_!'

There is an eye-piercing flash of light followed by a thunderous bang. Everyone but Frederic shut their eyes tight, not before a huge lightning bolts down from the dark sky above. Lightning is attracted to objects relatively higher to others, and masts are the perfect targets. What the thunderbolt destroyed is not only the pole and the crossbones sail, it descends straight through the deck, into the cabin area and out of the strake, instantly chopping the pirate ship into two, in which the strong vibration detaches the two halves from Baroque Ship. _Piu Grave_ is already terrifying enough, but this lightning move is even hundred times more powerful and destructive.

Since clouds are the essential media in forming lightning, the only limit for _Legion Fulminante_ is that it cannot be cast in sunny weather.

Induced by the extreme high temperature, the hit area burns and fire begins to dance as they feed on the deck. Without asking for Dolce's permission, other pirates abandon their weapons and jump off into the sea. Sea water begins to rush into the cabin compartments, pulling the two halves of the pirate ship into Blue Sea's abyss. On the broken deck the battle has reached the climax. Frederic is duelling with Dolce's two lieutenants at the same time. Roaring like angry tigers, Crescendo is taking on Dolce. The mace clashes against the long-barrel cannon, the shield blocks the hook from tearing down the prince's neck. The deck is now inclining more and more to one side, yet the five of them refuse to abandon ship.

The long enmity between pirates and Baroque, will be settled now, and here.

Diagonally holding the wand, Frederic blocks the red-headband lieutenant's slash from the left. From a moment ago, it has only been him in front of Frederic's eyes.

In the same technique when facing the ogre in Agogo Forest, Frederic backhandedly slashes his wand outward. The cutlass of his opponent is knocked away. Seizing the moment Frederic moves in for the death blow, his wand tip giving out a rose light. Its corresponding magical circle shines below his feet.

_Hound them, stab them, consume them!_

'_Coup de…!_'

The wand is driven into the pirate, who feels an overwhelming force piercing through his chest, through the flesh, ribs, lungs, heart and out of his back. In this instant, Frederic rapidly withdraws his outstretched right arm and flings backward.

'… _Jarnac_!'

Along with blood and torn organs, the pink power body halfway through the pirate's dead body abruptly changes course to flow in the opposite direction in current form, killing the other lieutenant who is planning to stealth-stab him from behind. The two corpses slump and roll out of the deck, disappearing below the sea level.

_Coup de Jarnac_, the alternation for Frederic's most basic move _Coup de Grace_. The first halves of the two moves employ the same mechanism, but _Coup de Jarnac_ can make use of the energy to hit one more target at the user's back. This is truly the stealthiest kind of attack Frederic has ever used.

He hears Dolce howling in fury at the loss of her two most useful men. The cannon in her hand is wielded more and more rapid, but Crescendo is like he is specially trained in defending more than his mace skills. Using both her cannon and hook, still she cannot crush down his broad shield. It is really irritating. Each time she wants to pull away the distance to use _Dead Man's Tale_, Crescendo will immediately close in and attack with his long mace.

'I will be the shield that protects my people! _Crystal Judgement_!'

In a speed totally unexpected by Dolce, Crescendo's mace launches an attack wave of eight moves, the crystal at its head deals his justice upon the pirate boss, whose cannon is too clumsy and heavy to block fast attacks. Teeth gritted, Dolce attempts to use her hook to hook the mace out of Crescendo's hand, only to feel a sharp pain on her left forearm – her metal hook, which is sealed into her forearm bone, is knocked off to the deck, but Crescendo's mace has not received even a scratch. It turns out its whole body is not made of metal, but the hardest material in the world.

_It's made of_ _diamond?_

Defenceless, Dolce watches Crescendo aims the crystal on his mace to her.

'This is the end for you and your crime, Dolce!'

The final and ninth blow hit her squarely in her abdomen.

_This is impossible! Slipping pass Baroque's navy and Crescendo for so many times, always able to pull through the dangers, how come I'm dying in such place?_

She feels her body falling. In her last breath, she still refuses to admit her end. Dolce, the biggest menace on the sea to Baroque, is received by Blue Sea. It is over, finally.

But Frederic and Crescendo's problem is not over yet – they are now only twelve feet above the sea. With its temperature merely a few minutes can chill them to death.

'Captain, Frederic!'

The two men look back. Baroque Ship is coming to their direction. Noticing them alive and in danger it turns around to rescue them. The voice is not from any of the Baroque sailors but a small girl's.

Salsa is standing on the bow statue. In her hands are two life rings, probably obtained from the ship. Two pieces of long string are tied to both rings.

'Grab these!'

Taking careful aim, Salsa throws the rings to them in perfect accuracy. Once they hold onto them, the Baroque sailors begin to pull them back onto the ship. Frederic and Crescendo are dangling halfway up when suddenly they hear her exclaims.

'Look there! Look there! What's that on the sea? Over there!'

With the help of moonlight, everyone sees that there seems to be a large chest floating up and down along with the waves. Though wood floats on water, usually chests or boxes sink as water flows in, yet this one manages to stay on water surface, suggesting that it is completely waterproof.

In other words, what this chest holds must be something really valuable or important.

'Frederic, can you get it? Get it before it sinks!'

Once Salsa said that, immediately there are waves of complaining. Those sailors do not know that Frederic can do magic, their dissatisfaction at Salsa's blunt sense cannot be helped. As soon as he and Crescendo return they are surrounded by applauses. Frederic points his wand at the chest and without long it zooms across the air onto the deck.

'As expected from the captain and Frederic,' says Salsa, clapping. 'That small fry still has much to learn.'

'What did you say? What about you? You didn't help a bit all the way until the last minute!'

_This voice…!_

Frederic looks at the sound source. There stands Polka and Beat, who is fine and alive.

'Beat! How come… you fell from that height!'

'It's Polka. One moment I thought I was about to die, the next moment she used a green light on me and I was feeling better than ever. Not only me, everyone is also healed by that spell in one round.'

Polka blushes at Beat's praise.

'I… at that time I only told myself that I couldn't let Beat die, then somehow, the light of my spell turned from orange to green.'

Being the same as a magic caster, Frederic knows that the stronger the will one has the stronger one's magic becomes. Polka must have found the inner strength in herself that her power increased, thus evolving her spell.

While everyone is congratulating him and Crescendo on eliminating Dolce and her gang, Salsa opens the large chest. Its contents shed a golden light on her face.

'Oh! Wow!'

Gold coins, gemstones, pearls, jades, corals, emeralds, cat's-eyes…

Everyone's attention is drawn to the golden light.

'Well, it looks like we've actually managed to find the pirates' treasure.'

Frederic smiles at Salsa, who is extremely pleased with herself.

'You see, if it wasn't me you would never have found it.'

'But wait. Is it really okay for us to take it?' There is a guilty expression on Polka's face. 'I mean, this is an awful lot of treasure. It's not rightfully ours no matter what.'

Salsa picks up a handful of gold coins and intends to put them into Polka's hand.

'Come on! You'll never become a big shot if you say silly things like that! Take this much treasure is no big deal at all.'

'Crescendo,' Frederic says, 'what do you think?'

'I'm quite sure these items were all stolen in the first place, so I doubt anyone will complain.' He thinks for a while. 'How about this, we shall bring it to Baroque and use it as the expenditure of social welfare.'

This solution receives universal agreement, except for Salsa's. As she searches the bottom of the pile of treasure, to her surprise, she digs out a black pirate hat, identical to Dolce's.

'Look! I got the ultimate treasure!'

Brandishing, she places it on her head. The one that is most displeased is none other than Beat, who looks flatly at the elated Salsa. Polka knows what is on his mind.

'Oh, poor Beat. I guess now you go back to being the short one again.'

Sure enough, Salsa slyly looks at him and demands him standing next to her. Exasperated, Beat sighs while everyone laughs…

*****

'… I just remembered something I wish I hadn't.'

Beat shakes his head as he whispers to himself.

'What's wrong,' Polka says, concerned. 'Did something happen?'

'It's nothing. Never mind.'

It is already annoying enough to have that Salsa character on his mind, Beat just hopes the whole thing can be erased from his memory. Then he just remembers the reason for coming out to the cold to find her.

'Oh, you should come in soon, too, okay? It's probably gonna start any minute now.'

The 'it' must be referring to the dance party thrown out by Crescendo. After the defeat of Dolce, the four of them were retreated as guests of honour in their effort in recovering the stolen treasure and cracking down the pirates. The news soon spread in all over Baroque City, and Crescendo decides that these all merits a good party to celebrate. Most from the high society are present, and naturally Frederic, Beat, Salsa and she are too invited to enjoy the night. It is rumoured that the climax should be a waltz dance in accompaniment of the performance of a highly skilled pianist.

This is something too good for Polka to miss, so she and Beat returns to the grand hall of Baroque Castle.

*****

**Op.18**

**Grande Valse Brillante**

This is a work composed in 1833, when Chopin was twenty-three years old.

In Chopin's homeland of Poland, the insurrection that started in Warsaw in 1830, had ended in defeated.

At this time, Chopin was in Paris, and a strong supporter of Poland.

Referencing to "The Revolutionary Etude," it is known that Chopin received the news of the fall of Warsaw, while en route to Vienna, in Stuttgart, Germany.

This song was composed after Chopin had left Vienna to live in Paris.

At the time, Austria was opposed to Polish independence.

It was partly because Austria was one of the nations that had divided up Poland, but also because they feared the uprising would spread to Austria.

Because of this, living in Vienna had been difficult for the Polish Chopin.

In Vienna, waltzes designed for dancing were in fashion. This piece, while unquestionably a masterpiece, is something of a contrast to Chopin's other works. It seems to reflect the atmosphere in Vienna at that time.

Though it was probably not meant to be danced to.

In order for the Polish Chopin to live in the adverse winds of that time, he may have made an effort to be popular.

Chopin appeared at salons and dinner parties, performing music for small audiences.

It is said that after these performances, Chopin returned to his room and played his piano furiously.

He must have felt a frustrating anger towards himself, forced to suppress his true feelings, put on a mask, and perform music to please people.

In contrast to the cheerful style of this piece, Chopin's heart was most likely not nearly as high-spirited.

*****

The applause is long and loud. Polka claps enthusiastically along with others.

'That was wonderful! Everyone danced so beautifully! I wish I could dance like that.'

Attending dance parties is always a dream for girls, including Polka. Not to say functions large-scaled like this one, there is hardly any dance party in Tenuto. This is the first time she is so immersed into the atmosphere, dancing and singing and letting free of herself.

'Yeah, and wow, I never knew Frederic was that good either.'

Beat says next to Polka. Come to think of it, she did not see him around throughout the party.

'Huh? Good at what?'

'At the piano, of course. Weren't you watching? Didn't you see him playing?' Beat points to the piano at the end of the hall, where the orchestra was. 'They way he played was just so amazing! Way better than any piano player I've ever heard before. It was almost like he was a real professional pianist.'

Back then in Mandolin Church there was also piano accompaniment to the hymn sing, and Beat was actually a clarinet performer himself. The way Frederic moved his fingers, the way he touched the keys, the melody, all possessed a mysterious charm that can draw everyone's attention and admiration.

Polka's eyes widen.

'What? Are you saying Frederic was playing that music? I was watching the people dancing the whole time. I didn't pay attention to who was playing the music.'

_How could I have missed that!_

A magic expert, and on top of that a professional pianist. This man is truly inconceivable, but regarding his history or where he comes from, Frederic always remains tight-lipped. Polka has to ask herself how much she knows about him.

Just then, among the people out comes Salsa. She locates them.

'Hey! We have to go see the captain! Hurry!'

_Why the sudden…?_

'See the captain?' Beat repeats.

'You two need to stop calling him the captain.' Polka says in a mother-to-son manner. 'You should call him Prince Crescendo for he is the prince of Baroque.'

Salsa is still as energetic as ever.

'I'll bet the captain's going to have a feast prepared to thank Frederic for playing the piano! It isn't fair if they get a head start!'

'Oh, so Frederic has already gone to join Prince Crescendo?'

Polka finally realizes that she was really too occupied by the brilliant dancers that she had no idea whatever happened around her. Even Beat and Salsa, two eight-year-old children, are better than her.

'Yeah, and if we don't hurry up, they'll eat all the food.'

'Oh, I wonder if they're gonna feed us something really good?' Being a street urchin, feasts are something never written Beat's dictionary. 'Come on, let's go! I don't want to miss out on that!'

The three of them leave the hall along with the guests. Polka can hear many of them hoping that the party can go longer, and many Frederic's admirers (mostly females) are asking if he may perform in other parties soon, and that if so they will surely attend.

_Before I die, I have to listen to him playing._

Crescendo's office is on the second floor at the east wing. Polka, Beat and Salsa present their identities to the soldier outside the room and are allowed to enter. Contrary to the luxury impression of what a prince usually gives, the room is decorated in a classical way.

Frederic and Crescendo are speaking. Sitting beside him is a finely dressed woman, whose eyes are as blue as sapphire. The prince sees the three of them and invites them to sit down.

'Mr. Chopin, thank you for your stellar performance. May I ask who the composer was?'

If the one who created this masterpiece is still alive, maybe he can subsidize him or her to continue creating other pieces for his people and the world.

Frederic takes off his hat and bows.

'It's me.'

His answer has started a small wave of applause. Crescendo looks highly delighted.

'I'm very honoured to get the chance to listen to Mr. Chopin's work. Oh, allow me to introduce my fiancée, Serenade.'

'Hello. I am very pleased to make your acquaintance.'

The voice of Serenade is nothing but elegant. Her choice of words and manners are obviously specially trained to match her identity.

This situation is completely not what Beat expects.

'Hey, what's going on here, Salsa? They're just talking about boring stuff. I don't see any food anywhere.'

'Well, I just thought they were probably gonna eat all the good stuff before we could get here.'

Salsa whispers back. Beat cannot believe what he hears.

_So the food and the feast, are invented in your head?_

_Oh, great…_

But in front of a prince and future princess, Beat knows his manner.

'There is something I wanted to tell all of you, about the position Baroque is in right now.' Crescendo says. 'Count Waltz is using mineral powder to convert his population into soldiers who fear nothing, not even death.'

Before falling down to Fusion River, Polka has learnt this from Andantino.

'We know. As soon as his preparations are complete, it is almost certain that he and his armies will invade Baroque.'

'However, if Baroque were to pre-emptively challenge Forte, many innocent civilians would surely get caught up in the resulting all-out war.'

Frederic is too a victim of war. The suffering of innocents is one of the greatest tragedies of war. Those sitting at the back commanding are only focusing on the number of kills they get that day, while turning a blind eye to those who die because of those few ones.

The topic now relates Beat's life as well, so he thinks he can join the discussion.

'So, what are you gonna do now?'

'Well, I thought that the solution to the problem would be to find a way to assassinate Count Waltz to avoid any other casualties. So… I aided Andantino.'

_So the backup of Andantino is Baroque. That's why Waltz does not dare making any move on it yet._

Silent until now, Serenade looks worrier than Crescendo.

'But you see, I'm opposed to that plan. I believe assassination would be equivalent of a declaration of war against Forte, and if we were to do that, would it not be the same kind of evil for which Count Waltz is responsible?'

The rest five people fall silent.

'History always repeats itself. Even if we managed to succeed in assassinating Count Waltz, another Count Waltz would appear, then another. The problem itself would still remain. If we throw all our support behind a band of rebels, I believe it will be Baroque that is disgraced in the end.'

Looking back in history, mankind does repeat the same mistakes over and over again. Claiming war to be evil, people still fight against each other, refusing to understand other points of view. Sadly the passage of time tends to allow people to forget tragic and painful events. Once these memories are let go they continue on with their own lives, turning their backs on the blood shred on the ground.

'Therefore I have a favour to ask. I understand that all of you are acquainted with Jazz. There is a message I would like you to pass on to him. It is this: "Baroque can no longer provide you with any assistance." No matter how much of a tyrant Count Waltz may be, we cannot be absolutely certain that he is ever going to attack us. To attack him first would be a classic example of man's suspicious nature leading to war.'

This is a really serious matter. Unsure whether this is Crescendo's intention or not, Frederic looks at the prince for confirmation, who nods very reluctantly.

'We must achieve true peace. Not simply the appearance of it. But, because of the current situation with Forte, there is no way I can leave Baroque at the present time. Besides, if I were to be seen making contact with Andantino, the very thing alone could act as a trigger for war.' Crescendo lets out a long sigh. 'Could you perhaps meet with Jazz, and tell him for me, that this struggle itself is the very thing that's leading the world into chaos?'

Frederic instantly knows what Crescendo means.

'You would like us to inform Andantino that Baroque can no longer provide support for its actions. Is that correct?'

'I'm sorry to have to ask you to do this.'

In fact whether it is Crescendo's real wish or simply using them to get rid of the dirty job of facing Jazz in person to cut the alliance, Frederic does not know.

Those who start a war or conflict and make people suffer, that is no question wrong in all history' record. The thing that is fishy is, from the way Serenade puts it, she sounds like that Andantino and Baroque should leave Forte alone, without doing anything to rescue Ritardando and Agogo Forest. So does she suggest that nothing should be done to stop Waltz mining Mt. Rock and destroying the forest, or him using his people as subjects to test mineral powder turning them into half-dead berserkers? What about the thousands of civilians in Ritardando, still consuming mineral powder without knowing the conspiracy?

Is she really hoping to solve the tension?

_Or does she have anything more than that…?_

Beat however does not think that deep.

'Oh, is that all? Deliver a message? That's nothing. Retto and the others are probably already looking for us anyway.'

Jazz, Falsetto and Claves should be with Allegretto if they got off Fusion River together, then if they can make their way back to Ritardando somehow, delivering Crescendo's words should not be much of a problem.

It sounds like it is finally time for them to go back no matter what.

'That's true, Beat.' Polka says. 'We certainly can't just stay here like this forever.'

_I'm sure mother is worried about me too._

'Then allow me to thank you all again. It's late now, so why don't you join us at the dining hall? Meanwhile I'll get rooms prepared for you. Please get completely rested tonight.'

_Food?_

'At last! I knew there is going to be a feast!'

Manners all gone, Salsa holds up a victorious fist in the air before Polka can stop her, but brought up by her the group suddenly realizes how hungry they are.

'Oh, Prince Crescendo, I don't know what to say, but, thank you.'

Polka tries to put it in the most polite way she can think of. Frederic and Beat also decide to accept Crescendo's generous hospitality.

'Then it's settled. Please come with me, this way.'

The group follows Crescendo and Serenade behind, with Salsa bouncing all along the way.

*****

The group set out next morning.

Crescendo has given them two weeks' worth of food and a very detailed map on the landscape of Baroque and Forte. According to the map there are two ways to go back to Ritardando – through Forte territory and Cabasa Bridge, or up the mountain range, Sharp Mountain, on the east of the two cities.

Unfortunately Cabasa Bridge has become nothing but some floating wood in Blue Sea now, and their identities are too sensitive to be seen in Forte.

That basically leaves them no choice.

The majestic scenery is great. Large and ancient rocks, undeveloped landscape covered in grass and rubbles, trees witnessing the dynasties of Baroque, cactuses struggles to survive in thin soil, ruins that may once belonged to extinct clan. Yet the challenge has not come yet. Because of the height, the peak areas of Sharp Mountain are covered in snow of millennium.

The mountain itself is not at very high difficulty in climbing up, but the snow is so thick that their knees are often half-buried in white solid water, draining their precious energy every step they make. Sometimes they need almost a full day to gain only around several ten metres above the ground level. Physical fatigue is not their only enemy, the higher they get, the air becomes thinner and colder. During daytime, the smooth snow surface reflects the sunlight which burns their eyes. At night while the temperature dives, the snow turns into hard ice that can slip them down for all they have worked up for the past days if they lose their guards.

'It's so cold up in this mountain. My nose won't stop running.'

Shivering and sniffing, Salsa is looking utterly miserable for good reason, as her dress is for the warm weather in Agogo Forest. Likewise, Beat is shaking like a leaf, even Polka is unhappily cold.

Regarding Frederic, he is the most appropriately dressed for this in a long coat and hat. The weather of his home country Poland has always been colder during winter. The mountain has already been merciful to them that there is no blizzard these days. This sort of coldness and snow never bothers him a bit.

As if a miracle happened, stood up on the way in front of their eyes, is a little lodge.

'Why don't we all rest for a while in this little lodge?'

Polka suggests. To Salsa, she does not want to rest for a while – _a day please_, she thinks.

Beat certain wants to get out of the cold, yet the advantage being a street urchin and spending years with Allegretto is that he is trained to be cautious about unfamiliar environment.

'Who in the world would live here?'

There is no other residence within miles. Why would one choose to be isolated from friends and shops to live like hidden tribe? Moreover there is no field or animals around it.

'Who cares about these at a time like this? Let's just go inside already.'

Without asking the rest's opinions Salsa leads the way into the lodge. Frederic, at the back, looks concerned as Beat and Polka exchange a few words and also go in.

There is a strange air coming from within. Something like magic, but he is not entirely sure.

_How come I would create this in my dream?_

Hoping to find the answer, Frederic decides that he nevertheless has to step into the lodge.

*****

Waltz reclines on his throne.

'So Claves did betray us for real, that ungrateful bitch.'

But he soon dismisses his grave, obviously caring little about the matter.

'Oh, well. Once we have an endless supply of insane soldiers, there'll be no need to spy on Andantino.'

'What about the one in Baroque?'

Cold as ice, same as the two triangular blades on her back, Rondo asks her master.

'Her? No, she's very dependable. And besides, her interests coincide with mine.'

'What do you mean?'

Short and precise, that is the way of Rondo's speech.

'Forte would be in a difficult position if we were to be attacked before we finished developing a more powerful mineral powder. Even when she marries into Baroque, she's still a princess of Forte. She's the perfect person to prevent Baroque from starting a war with us. She won't let them follow a path that could harm Forte.'

At this point, Waltz stands up from his throne.

'More importantly, Fugue should be searching Agogo Forest for glowing agogos. I want you to go there as well and if he's slacking off, give him some… _encouragement_.'

Waltz reaches out a hand to Rondo and punches the air. The meaning of 'encouragement' here cannot be clearer.

_Not to kill him, but I don't care if you craft a tortoise on his back, with your swords._

'Yes.'

Rondo backs up, turns around, and leaves.

*****

The lodge is small, but homey. Every piece of furniture is made of wood. Loaves of bread and several bottles of wine are already set on the table. There is a fire burning in the large fireplace by the wall. On the mantelpiece are ornaments and china, though not first-class but clearly specially selected. The party is instantly cheered by the warmth.

'It's so warm in here!'

Salsa gratefully embraces the warmth near the fire. Polka also steps closer to warm her hands.

'There's something familiar about this place. It reminds me of my home in Tenuto.'

Yet the most important thing now is not to walk around as if this place is theirs. Frederic raises his voice and asks aloud.

'Please excuse us for the intrusion. Is anyone here?'

The fire is burning before they entered. There should be someone in the house or not far away. Frederic is about to ask again when he hears footsteps from the inner area. Apart from the sound of shoes against the wooden floor, there are clunks of wood against wood as well.

_An old man?_

But it turns out it is an old woman, whose silvery white hair set into braid rings on two sides of her head. Usually people would look alarmed when strangers appear in their house. This old woman however actually smiles.

'I knew you would be coming sooner or later, Polka dear.'

Frederic, Beat and Salsa turns to Polka, who is the most shocked among them.

'How do you know my name?'

'It's certainly been a long time, hasn't it? 10 years, and how many years has it been since I first saw you? It feels like it could have been only yesterday, but I suppose it also could have been hundreds of years ago.'

Beat leans towards Polka, asking her quietly.

'You know her?'

'No, I don't. I'm sorry, have we met somewhere before?'

The old woman goes over to the fireplace, and replenishes some firewood. The merry fire reflects in her pupils.

'Not somewhere, my dear. We've met before right here, in this very place. Because, you and your friends are the only one who can see me here. Other travellers will only find this an empty cabin.'

Polka finds it hard to believe. She is sure that she has no impression of this old woman, yet she can call her by her name.

'We met here? Excuse me, but this is the first time I've ever been to this place. How is it that you know about me?'

'My dear, I'm afraid you wouldn't understand even if I explained it to you. And even if you knew everything, there's nothing you can do.' The old woman turns around. 'You know what, Polka dear, you were never alone every time you came. I guess you are just born to be able to attract others to help you in your journeys.'

_Every time?_

This is all way too strange, even Salsa forgets about the fire and listens to the old woman's words.

'Then what're you doing here anyway? Don't tell me it's your job to just to wait here for her to show up?'

The old woman does not answer as she backs into the inner area. Shortly afterward she returns with a small box with a slot.

'First, dear, you are going to draw the fortune of bad luck.'

Beat looks positively amazed by her prediction.

'Wait, does that mean you know what she's going to draw?'

'Yes, I know very well. You see my job is to witness whether or not she ties that fortune to the sacred tree.'

'Sacred tree?' Polka asks.

'The tree standing right behind this house. Its real name is the Cello Tree. It has stood on this land for thousands and thousands of years. For the tree, it's as if time is standing still, for it never grows any bigger and it also never withers. Baroque citizens think it is blessed, because it doesn't age.'

The old woman steps closer to Polka.

'Now, go ahead, draw your fortune. You will soon know whether I have told you is the truth or not.'

She puts down the box on the table and steps aside. Beat whispers to Frederic for his opinion (talking to Salsa is pointless, he thinks).

'What do you think? Should Polka do it? This whole thing is kind of weird.'

'I'll do it. I'll draw one. There's no way she could know what I'm going to draw before I do it. It just doesn't make any sense.' Polka digs her hand into the slot. 'It's because you don't know what you're going to get before you draw, that you can have hope for the future.'

She draws a fortune and picks it out. It is tied with a blue teardrop crystal. She shows it to the old woman.

'Now then, my dear, go over to the sacred tree, and if it is indeed a bad fortune, you should tie it to one of the branches of the tree. By doing that you will drive away the bad luck.'

Polka nods and heads out of the lodge. Frederic, Beat and Salsa remain inside waiting. The fortune belongs to Polka alone and no one else. They should not know its content unless Polka talks about it herself.

The sudden change in temperature makes Polka sneezes as she opens her fortune in the wind.

The stars that float in the sky are sunken lower than the moon.

They actually shine very bright, but no one knows that.

They are in a place no one can reach. So no one notices.

The stars never come near us. Their light is too brilliant. It would take away our sight.

But someone is crying, screaming in a dark place.

Then she casts out her frightened heart. Look, she is standing right there.

Polka does not know exactly what it means, but no one can deny that it is not something good. The pronoun used here is not a universal 'he' but a 'she', as though it is meant for Polka herself.

_Frightened heart… crying… screaming…_

_I hate to admit it but the old woman is correct._

The only thing to do now is to tie it to the tree, which is just behind the lodge. No question that the Cello Tree is very old, where its branches and trunks are twisting. The strange thing is that there is no other tree in such height and weather, this one however has stood here for thousands of years according to that old woman.

Polka looks up for a branch low enough for her to tie it on, but she gasps, not because there is no leaves.

Every available space are almost tied by fortunes, covering almost the whole tree in paper.

_All of them are bad luck?_

_Who in the world is that old woman?_

_If this is a joke it is not funny. Did that woman play a trick on her? Those fortunes in that box, are they all bad fortunes?_

Polka returns to the lodge.

'Well, Polka? How did it go?'

But from her expression, Frederic thinks he knows the outcome. Polka passes by the three of them and looks around the lodge.

'Where did she go?'

Salsa looks behind her where the old woman has been, but what she sees is only the wall of the lodge.

'Hey, she was here just a minute ago!'

'What?'

There is no other exit except from the front door. How can someone just disappears without them knowing?

'Hey! Old lady! Where did you go?'

Beat searches around, but Polka realizes there is no need for that already.

'Beat, I don't think she's going to come even if you shout. She doesn't have a reason to be here anymore. Her duty is over.'

Salsa sees that the fortune Polka just drew is not in her hand.

'Anyway, what did your fortune say?'

Polka hesitates at first, but decides to say it.

'Well, it was just as she predicted.'

'Really? Oh, well, I wouldn't worry about it. It's just a scrap of paper after all.'

Salsa offers her own way of consolation. This girl really has no whatsoever people call manner or etiquette, and she says what comes up in her mind, but in this case, Polka thinks, the knot in her heart has loosened quite a lot.

They are now the only people in the house. The fire is still going in the fireplace. The food is on the table same as before. If it is not the fortune box, the party might think what they saw must have been an illusion.

They rest in the house and set out again next morning, and it proves that a good sleep away from the cold is the best way to recover their energy. They have passed through the steepest part on their journey to the top of Sharp Mountains, feeling even less tired than before. The rest of the way will be going down back to the ground level, which is certainly good news to them. Snow again is replaced by green plants and grass, and Beat takes this chance to take pictures of the sceneries below. Judging from the flat, vast plain they should have reached the Chorus Plains.

Viola's house is like a toy block looking from here. Beat uses the zooming function of his camera and sees that there are white dots moving around the house area.

_Is she back?_

According to the map the foot of Sharp Mountain is neighbouring Agogo Forest. At their pace they will be back to Ritardando territory the next day.

Polka watches Beat capturing everything here and there under his camera. She knows that in Ritardando people can sell pictures for money to professional photographers, depending on their quality level and rarity. Since people seldom travel this far just to take pictures on Chorus Plains' scenery, what Beat has taken may fetch a nice price.

'You really love that camera, don't you Beat?'

'Yes I do. It's the most important thing in the whole world to me. It was my father's. This camera is the only thing he left to me.'

Beat holds up his camera showing it to Polka.

'Yeah, every time I look at it, I remember my father. But it's more than just that. When he gave it to me, this is what he said, "This is a very special camera. The pictures it takes are different depending on who uses it".'

'Well of course, Obviously, if someone who's _good_ at photography uses it, they'll take better pictures.'

Salsa deliberately puts an accent on the word 'good' as if hinting that Beat is not at the standard.

'Hey, don't make fun of my father's camera! Besides that's not what he meant. It can show things in the pictures you wouldn't be able to see otherwise.'

Polka observes the camera closely. No matter how she looks, it does not look like it has any special powers.

'Well, some things we only understand by experience. There are a lot of things we can't understand until we look at them later objectively. Although most of what we consciously experience is vital, in reality, we are using so many other senses. Even so, people are often misled from the truth because they rely far too much on what they see with their eyes.'

Exactly how Ritardando is now, exactly why people are using mineral powder.

'Pictures can capture a single moment in time, and sometimes they can hold a truth beyond just the image itself. I can't be sure, but Beat, I think that's probably what your father was trying to say to you.'

She gives the camera back to Beat. Salsa looks deeply impressed.

'Man, you're really getting all philosophical, aren't you? Well, whatever.'

Beat bets that she does not understand a single word, and goes back to his business of taking more pictures. He understands that he still needs plenty more experience, and he does not want to let go of any chance which he can practice.

'Anyway, pictures are visual reflections of reality, right? So, do you think music can do something like that too?'

Frederic, who has been walking behind them this whole time, is surprised to be so suddenly drawn into the conversation.

'What?'

'What I mean is, if there was music that "performs" reality, what would it be like?'

… _Music that performs reality?_

Frederic continues to think about Polka's question all the way along. Two days later they walk past Ritardando and finally return to the ground surface at the entrance of a green forest. As the guardian of this place, this is no obstacle to Salsa. In two hours the party emerges in a clearing. Wooden houses, small stream, wooden statues of faces and animals.

Salsa's home.

'Well, look at that, we're back in Agogo Village. I must be a genius if I do say so myself.'

She strikes a self-congratulatory pose that no one pays attention to. In a nearby patch, a small figure with layered lilac hair is picking mushrooms. It is dressed in the same way Salsa is.

'Hey, isn't that your sister March?'

Salsa looks at where Beat points at.

'You're right! It is! Hey!'

Salsa waves her hand as she runs. Her identical twin March turns around as she hears the call.

'Salsa! Welcome home!'

'I'm glad to see you're okay.'

Frederic, Polka and Beat come up to them. Salsa and March look really alike – same height, same hairstyle, same clothing.

'I know you're totally hopeless without me around, so I was a little worried about you. But goodness, I sure ran into a lot of trouble on this trip. First I was thrown into a scary dungeon, and then I climbed a frozen mountain. I'm telling you, it was a spectacle, a truly astoundingly big adventure!'

March listens all the way through quietly. Her personality is far more staid then Salsa. Even for the most thrilling part she only responds with a smile. Though interrupting is not polite, but Salsa is still excitedly talking about her story that she does not notice something happening around her.

'Um, uh, Salsa? More importantly, you should probably take a look at that?'

Salsa cannot believe that there is something else more important than the story of her trip. Impatiently she looks at where March points.

A large crowd of agogos have started to gather around Polka. Those nearest to her are glowing brightly.

'Oh my goodness! The agogos are glowing! In all the time I've lived here, I've never seen anything like that.'

Beat takes out his camera. Last time the agogo ran away before he got the chance to take a picture of it. Now there are so many he can take as many as he likes. Knowing that they are shy creatures, Beat makes sure he has turned off the flash light. Apart from just the agogos, Polka also becomes a model in some of his pictures.

'I think they're trying to tell us something. Just look at how excited they are.'

Yet a dreadfully familiar voice ends all the excitement.

'I came to find out the secret of the glowing agogos, but I never expected to find the place where they lived. I suppose luck is on my side today.'

Frederic and Polka tensed up at the voice. They look up and see a man coming to them, murmuring while surveying the surroundings.

'Now that I think about it, I never did check around here before.'

Frederic's eyes narrow at the sight of that royal guard armour and that monocle on his right eye.

'You again!'

Beat hears the anger in his voice.

'Frederic? Do you know who this person is?'

'He attacked us for no reason at all in Agogo Forest!'

Polka glares at Fugue. She can still feel the spot at the back of her neck where she was knocked out by him.

'Did I really? I'm afraid I do tend to forget unimportant little details like that.'

Frederic and Polka are absolutely sure that Fugue is mocking, but the way he tilts his head pretending he has forgotten what he has done makes them sick. If Beat had not heard what Polka said he would even have thought that this man could be a gentleman. Hearing that he is coming for the agogos, Salsa alertly looks at him.

'But I have to tell you, today is not only my lucky day, it's all of yours as well. I had intended to take you all to Forte Castle. There, you would have been made to suffer, until you revealed the secret location of the glowing agogos.'

Fugue unleashes his katana, still talking with that mock polite voice, the joy to kill shines from his eyes.

'But now that I know where they live, well, there's simply no need for extended torture.'

Alarmed, Salsa retrieves the two orange rings on her back, each hand holds one.

'Everyone step back. I'll kick his butt alone!'

'I'll just put you out of your misery right now. After all I really have no need for you anymore, guardians of Agogo Forest!'

'I won't let you lay a finger on the agogos!'

The katana brushes across from sideway, striking at Salsa's waist. An ominous black shade shines from the blade. Salsa takes a step backward, allowing the blade tip sweeping past in front of her waist. Unexpectedly Fugue does not wait for the katana's tendency to turn rigid and exerts force onto his wrists, the horizontal sweep abruptly changes to a vertical push, jabbing towards Salsa's stomach. A katana made of steel is never light, but Fugue can make it change course in midway. This is out of everyone's prediction, same for Salsa who quickly presses the Solar Rings onto the katana and, with the help of action-reaction force, leaps upward.

Fugue does not wait for Salsa to land and pursues. Salsa's rings press onto the katana again and she takes off the second time. Fugue is annoyed by this.

'Down!'

The katana resolutely follows. Hanging in midway it is not easy for Salsa to dodge.

_No good!_

Salsa grabs the ridge of the katana and knocks the rings down onto Fugue. If she had the strength of a fully grown adult, the katana would have snatched away from his hand. Yet Fugue's physical strength is much stronger than Salsa's and manages to hold it firmly. As he retreats backward Salsa also let go of the katana and lands swiftly. Though unable to steal the enemy's weapon, nevertheless the danger is lifted. The one that is most relieved is none other than her sister March.

At this time, Salsa suddenly raises the Solar Rings and slices at Fugue. He at first thought that he could dispatch her within three moves, Salsa's agility is out of his calculation. He quickly jumps backward. The slice almost cut him on the thighs.

_I'm losing to this little brat?_

'Stop messing with me!'

In a roar, Fugue directs the katana to Salsa and attacks madly. Salsa is forced to back away unceasingly. The holes in her defence are gradually exposed. Seeing the weak points in her Solar Rings, Fugue retrieves the katana to his left waist, grinning wickedly.

_You bugs can never appreciate beauty of this kind!_

There is no way Frederic can ever forget that stance.

'Get down, Salsa!'

'_J'accuse_!'

The same vacuum-blade that knocked Frederic out in Agogo Forest darts straight to Salsa. The moment she heard his warning she has already braced herself for what will come. A lunar-shaped nonphysical attack is never what she expects. It is coming so fast that it is too late for her to dodge. Under reflex action Salsa can only use the Solar Rings as shield. As the vacuum-blade gets contact with the rings, she feels an overpowering force vibrating in her wrists. Her tiny body flies off under the momentum and, in a snap, one of the rings breaks into half.

Salsa's managed to stay alive is both surprised to the party and Fugue. From what they see the two Solar Rings have nothing special to suggest what kind of material they are made of. Frederic has tasted the power of _J'accuse_ before, and the rings, though one broken, actually managed to block it.

Salsa does not seem winced by that. She chucks the broken ring to Fugue, who ducks sideway. Salsa closes in with the remaining Solar Ring. Fugue does not dare letting his guard down and defences with his katana. Salsa utilizes her incomparable speediness to attack among the gaps of the katana. Though it often seems to threaten her life, turns out it is unable to touch any part of her body.

Fugue gets more and more impatient as the fight goes on. By this time he would have dispatched most of his previous opponents, but up till now he still is unable to win over an eight-year-old girl.

'Enjoy the dark roses! _Blood Scent_!'

Fugue holds the katana in two hands and waves. Now with the power from his two hands and waist, the sound of wind on the blade is doubled than before. _Blood Scent_ does not have many variations, comprised of only diagonal slashes and pierces, but while they are repeatedly dished out Salsa is forced to back away and away. Not to say taking him head-on, she does not even dare getting caught in the wind on the blade.

Normally speaking Fugue would never have liked to use this final move of his in this trivial battle, needless to say on a child, but at this point he cannot care more about that. The only thing he wants is to cut this troublesome brat into half. Salsa can only rely on her agility to jump around, concentrating on nothing but dodging. There is no room for her to fight back. March's heart palpitates with anxiety and fear, while Fugue yells 'good!' in his heart.

Under the tight pursue of the katana Salsa has no choice but to shrink, and without long she feels her back against a tree. Seeing that she has no more space to retreat, a wicked grin twists on Fugue's lips.

'This will be short and sweet!'

The katana sweeps horizontally. The moment the tree trunk meets the blade it is instantly sliced into two. Following a loud 'BOOM!' the broken tree falls onto the ground.

At the last second, Salsa leaps over Fugue's head and lands behind him. It takes more than a second for Fugue to take in what has happened. Even for a fully trained soldier, that overhead leap is deemed impossible to anyone. Who would have thought that a little girl of barely a metre tall could jump up more than triple of her height?

Having just escaped the gate of hell, Salsa does not hesitate as she vertically holds the Solar Ring above her head and dives for the back of Fugue's head.

'_Solar Flare_!'

Not to say the Solar Ring, if the brain is knocked by any hard object it can induce instant kill. The ring edge cracks Fugue's skull and sinks deep into his hindbrain. If Salsa had the strength of an adult, that cut would even have chopped his head into two from between, but nevertheless that blow is already fatal to anyone. Fugue silently falls facedown onto the ground, apparently dead.

_Ha, I'm fabulous and talented!_

March runs up to her sister.

'Salsa, are you okay? You are not hurt, are you?'

Salsa is very proud of herself.

'Certainly not. See? You can always rely on me. That's why you're hopeless without me. You still have lots more to learn from me, March.'

Beat knows that soon Salsa is going to brag about this on him, so he quickly asks.

'So, what did that guy want anyway?'

'He said something about the secret of the agogos.' Salsa says loudly. 'It didn't make any sense!'

Frederic recalls that Fugue said about 'the secret location of the glowing agogos'.

'It sounded as though he wanted to find where the glowing agogos live.'

'Yeah, exactly!' Salsa interrupts. '"Glowing agogos"? Who ever heard of such a ridiculous thing?'

Clearly her triumph mood is still in effect that she does not think twice what she says, because more than a hundred agogos are glowing right beside them. Beat hears a different meaning in Salsa's words.

'Huh? Wait, you mean agogos don't usually glow?'

'Of course they don't glow! Geez, if you don't know that much, you're even more of a baby than I thought you were.'

Beat is about to shout when March gives him an apologetic expression. Salsa, who does not know that and thinks that Beat cannot find any excuse to argue back, smiles smugly.

'Actually,' March says quietly, 'I've been doing a little research about it, and I've made a rather interesting discovery.'

She looks at Polka.

'The first time you came into the forest, you saw an agogo that was glowing. Isn't that what you told me?'

'Yes, that's right. It was definitely glowing.'

Salsa gazes at Polka as though she has never seen her plainly before.

'What? Are you serious? I just can't believe it.'

'I know. At first, I didn't believe it either, but when I looked into the tales passed down in our ancestors, I came across an old legend that talks about glowing agogos. "Agogos are mirrors of the forest, and mirrors of the heart. Reflecting the gleam of the shimmering jewel, when they glow, you will know the time has come. They shall become a light that comforts the dearest wish of the maiden's tears.'

Salsa thinks hard about it.

'Hmm. Very interesting…'

'Come on then!' Beat eyes eagerly at her. 'What does all that mean?'

'It means…' Salsa turns her back on him. 'I've got no clue.'

She puts her hands up in a surrendering gesture. Expecting her to reveal the answer, Beat is disappointed and dissatisfied.

'What? You were acting like you understood it!'

'My preliminary estimate,' March says again, 'is that it could be referring to one's purity in the heart. In other words, the glow of the agogos is the light reflection from our heart.'

'Then if it's really the case, then our hearts must be very pure to reflect that much light, right?'

Frederic looks around him. It is true that the agogos are glowing like crazy, even more than the light from diamonds, as if each of them is a small sun.

'It's not so much the agogos around us as it is the ones around Polka, that appears to glow.'

Polka feels the gazes from everyone.

If they are talking about heart's purity, there should be plenty others that have a good and kind heart as well. Why do agogos never glow around them, but particularly for Polka?

Apparently, Polka must have something everyone else does not…

'But this makes me wonder all the more about that thug we encountered. And didn't we hear that Count Waltz is searching for glowing agogos?'

'Oh I get it.' Beat says. 'Do you think maybe that guy coulda been working for Count Waltz or something?'

'It is a possibility. After all, Salsa was imprisoned for doing nothing more than going to Forte and asking for speaking with the Count.'

Salsa even gets to look serious for the first time.

'This is starting to sound kind of dangerous. I don't wanna leave March alone, so I think I'll keep an eye on things here for a while, okay?'

'Actually, I'd really like to go and see my mom.' Polka says. 'So I'm going to stop in Tenuto for a while.'

Hearing that she wants to go home, Beat also thinks he should check on the orphans in the sewers while he and Allegretto were away. Since they last separated in Fusion River he has not heard any news from him.

'I'm gonna head back to my hideout in Ritardando and see what's up. If Retto is back he might already be there waiting by now.'

'Then perhaps I'll go along with you, Beat.' Frederic says. 'I must find Jazz, and Ritardando is where he's likely to be.'

Crescendo has asked him to tell Andantino that Baroque can no longer aid them in opposing Waltz. It is already more than a week since that day, and he has to tell Jazz as soon as possible.

Beat looks very pleased that he has Frederic as accompany.

'All right. Then let's pick a time for us to meet up again in Ritardando.'

Unknown to them, their whole discussion and that battle between Salsa and Fugue were already spied by someone from the cover of the trees.

_Huh, so much for Fugue, can't even beat a kid._

Hair tied into a ponytail by a rose, unmoved by the death of her former colleague, Rondo expressionlessly observes the party parts way.

_Now, as for that young girl. The agogos only seem to glow when they're around her._

_Why? And who is she?_

But what makes the difference? As long as she can complete Waltz's mission, who cares? At the thought of this, she cannot help but laugh in her heart.

No wonder she could not find them all this time. It turns out where they live is not important.

_It must be the girl. She, is the key to everything._

Rondo casts a disdainful eye at Fugue's body, which is being moved away by the two forest guardians.

Mission failed and gets killed in action, Waltz has no need for such rubbish.

Only the strongest can survive.

_Don't hold a grudge against me, Fugue. But it looks like I'm going to get credit for this one._

Haste makes waste. The most important thing now is to report what she has seen to Count Waltz. After all, capturing a girl alive is as easy as killing an ant.


	5. Chapter 5 Nocturne

Warning: the fight between Falsetto and Rondo is rated as M

Chapter V

Nocturne

There is only one way from Agogo Forest to Ritardando – tracking back the way Beat and Allegretto headed off to Forte from their starting point. Last time Beat managed to complete the whole journey, while unfortunately for Frédéric he was knocked out by Fugue in midway, hence Beat takes the lead most of the time.

At first he and Allegretto estimated that their journey would take just a week, who can possibly know that so many things have happened? At the end, their goal of talking to Count Waltz has failed to complete, yet the fun and excitement they have had all the way have fully compensated for that.

This is Frédéric's first time to set foot in Ritardando, and he insists on visiting Beat's underground hideout, no matter how Beat keeps telling him that the sewers are far too dirty for guests.

As Beat is climbing down the ladder he hears a familiar voice.

'Well, it sure took you long enough.'

'Retto!' Beat jumps down from the ladder, shortly followed by Frédéric. 'What a relief. I'm glad to see that you all got back here safely.'

Allegretto winces and glances away. This always hints bad news.

'What is it, Retto? Did someone get hurt or something on your way here?'

Allegretto explains how he and Andantino have been landed on Adagio Swamp and how they made it back to Andante. When Allegretto moves on to how they found out Claves was killed, Beat shakes his head and sighs.

'Oh, geez. That's just terrible. Poor Claves, she must have been struggling with her conscious for a long time because of what she was doing.'

'What about the others?' Frédéric asks.

'Viola went home to set her goats free. After that she's gonna head for Salsa and March's house. We weren't sure, but we thought you'd probably all be heading over to their place.'

'Then what about Jazz and Falsetto?'

'She's…' Allegretto's hands form fists. '… ever since we learnt about Claves's death, we kinda haven't been able to find Falsetto anywhere.'

Shocked by this news, Beat's eyes widen.

'She's gone missing? How can that be?'

'… Yeah, I mean, we tried looking for her all over the place, but she's just nowhere to be found. I dunno, we even have thought… whether it was her who actually killed Claves.'

Recalling the first time they met Falsetto at Hanon Hills, the impression she gave was tough, just and righteous. They know that she does not seem to be in good term with Claves, but a person like her would run away from murder? Frédéric finds it hard to believe.

'I don't think she's that kind of person.'

'Jazz also thinks that way, but before we find her there's no point playing guessing game. Anyway, Jazz has headed for Baroque Castle. He said he needed to talk to someone there.'

That 'someone' would most likely be Crescendo, Frédéric thinks. All the time he and Beat were at the castle they had not seen Jazz. The only explanation is he must have arrived just after they left for Sharp Mountain back here.

'Well then, enough about me. What about you?'

'Oh, we were fished out of the water by a ship from Baroque.' Beat enthusiastically stretches out his arms wide imitating its grandness. 'It was a really cool ship, and guess who the captain was? The prince of Baroque himself!'

Looking from Beat to Frédéric, who nods, Allegretto knows that Beat is not bragging.

'So then, while we were all miserable trudging through swamps and poisonous forests, you guys were off having fun on a pleasure cruise?'

'Don't think it was all fun and games, Retto. We had a pretty tough time ourselves, you know. We even had to fight with pirates! Isn't that right, Frédéric?'

'Yes, and after the fighting, the Prince entrusted us with a message he wanted us to deliver to Jazz.'

But from the way it looks there will be no need to deliver that message anymore. Crescendo can now tell Jazz in person in Baroque.

'I never would've figured Jazz was the type to have a prince for a friend,' says Allegretto, 'but hey, at least this clears up one thing, I guess we know where we're headed to next…' He stops as he suddenly remembers something – very important to him. 'Oh hey, by the way, Beat, where did Polka end up?'

_Ha! There you are!_

In fact Beat has been betting that Allegretto will surely ask them about this. Staring at the ceiling he grins mischievously.

'Aha, I figured you'd be wondering about her.'

There is a rather pink hint on Allegretto's face.

'Well… o-of course. She's a… a _friend_!'

But a smaller voice in Allegretto tells him that it does not seem so simple. This feeling towards Polka is different. It is not exactly like falling in love at first sight, nor is it like the kind of brotherly-love to a younger sister. It is different, something more complicated…

It is as if… Polka is someone he has known for a long time, even before he was born…

_Huh, how is this possible?_

Realizing he is thinking out of sense, Allegretto shakes this thought out of his mind. It must be because Polka is doomed to die young, and he feels empathetic to her fate that he wants to protect her and make her happy throughout the rest of her life.

'Polka said that she wanted to make a quick stop in Tenuto,' Frédéric says, 'so that she could look in on her mother. We all agreed that we were going to meet back here in Ritardando, so she will be here before too long.'

'Really? Then she will be here before long. Now that we have time for everyone else to show up, let's take a walk around the town. It's been a while.'

'So, the key person we sought wasn't the guardian of Agogo Forest.'

Waltz says after he has listened to Rondo's report.

'And to think, we almost killed that girl. We're lucky that Fugue and Tuba were so incompetent at their assignments.'

_Or maybe I should say they performed their jobs perfectly._

If Fugue and Tuba could have heard what he says, the two of them would probably have risen from their dead and longed for cutting his throat.

'The agogos only glowed when they were around that girl. If we're to get a hold on them, we'll need to find some way to lure the girl to us.'

This sounds more like Rondo is telling what her boss should do, but Waltz does not mind that. As long as soldiers can fulfill their assignments, everything else comes in second priority.

'In any case, it appears she can use magic, which means that she doesn't have very much time left to live. Rondo, I want you to bring her to me. And you had better do it before she dies.'

Soldiers, especially assassins, never need self-consciousness or critical thinking. What they have to do is to simply obey orders, and never ask questions. Having taken in Rondo and trained her since she was young, Waltz knows that she can be counted on.

'Understood. Locating the trail of one little girl should not be too difficult if I ask in Ritardando.'

It is nightfall.

Allegretto is in Tenuto Village. He still cannot help but worry about Polka.

The tour has taken much longer than he has thought. Apart from his dirty record of bread stealing, he and Beat have been maintaining a pretty good relationship with other town folks, and they naturally had lots of questions when both of them were gone those days.

There are several big landmarks in Ritardando, and among them the Mandolin Church stands out. There is a huge catacomb underneath which once served as shelter for the citizens against pirates, and it is open to the public recently. Beat was very excited about it and wanted to investigate deeper, but unfortunately it was not easy mapping out the directions as almost every tunnel was designed in almost the same way for the purpose of confusing pirates. By the time they managed to return to the surface it was already evening. Beat has returned to the hideout, while Frédéric decides to stay in the church, offering playing the piano for the chorus members.

This is one of the most laid back villages he has ever seen, Allegretto thinks as he walks leisurely along the main path. Then the problem comes – he does not know which house Polka lives in. It is already dark, and most villagers have gone back home.

_Gotta find someone to ask._

A woman is collecting water from a waterwheel near her house. Allegretto walks to her.

'Excuse me?'

The woman turns around.

'Oh, good evening. What brings you to our village at this time of the night?'

The population of Tenuto Village is just around a hundred. It is not surprising that she can tell instantly that he is from outside.

'Um, hello,' says Allegretto. 'I'm looking for a girl named Polka.'

'I see. So then you're one of the people that Polka has been travelling with?'

Allegretto has not expected her saying this.

'Huh? But how did you…?'

The woman smiles warmly.

'It's nice to meet you. I am Solfége, Polka's mother.'

'Nice to meet you, ma'am.' Allegretto bows. 'I'm Allegretto.'

'I know it must be inconvenient for you sometimes, but please look after my little girl.'

This is like a mother entrusting her beloved daughter to her future son-in-law. Allegretto can feel his cheeks going red.

'Oh, no, she's the one who looks after us! But you don't have to worry, I… _we_'ll make sure that Polka stays safe.'

'Oh, my. Well, it's nice to know I can count on you, Allegretto.' Solfége nods at his sincerity and determination. 'My Polka hasn't always had an easy life, but I think that travelling with all of you has made her very happy.'

There is something Allegretto wants to ask Polka for some time. Knowing her personality not hoping to worry others most likely she will not answer. Asking her mother might be better.

'Um, excuse me but… Polka's illness, it… it's pretty serious, isn't it?'

Solfége lowers her head. The expression on her face is strange. It is not sadness, or rather, she is thinking, how much she should reveal.

'… yes, but Polka's illness is a little bit different from that of other magic users.'

'What do you mean?'

Allegretto is desperate for an answer, but Solfége turns away from him.

'… it's her fate. Her life is chained to a tragic fate, and someday, she will sacrifice herself.'

'Sacrifice her life?' Allegretto cannot believe what he hears. 'There's no way I'd let her do something like that!'

Solfége turns around facing him, her hand clutching her heart.

'I don't wish to lose her either, but we can't fight fate! You may think I'm cruel, but I know best! This is her fate!'

'Who cares about fate anyway?'

Even Allegretto's voice changes under burning anger. This is all wrong! Recalling how he and Beat have struggled on the streets for food to survive until this day, if someone is destined to die the moment one is born, what can the meaning of life be? How can Polka's mother just stands by and let her daughter die?

Perhaps Solfége is thinking that if this continues she and Allegretto will end up quarreling, she takes a deep breath and heads up the stairway to her house.

'You should be able to find Polka in the flower field.'

She then disappears behind the door. What Allegretto never notices, as he walks away, is two traces of hot tears have run down Solfége's cheeks.

_Whether Polka's fate can be broken, whether she has to suffer again, it all depends on your decision now._

_Frédéric François Chopin…_

Polka is sitting on the cliff overlooking Ritardando. The city lights shine brightly in the moonlit night.

It seems only yesterday that she was sitting here, gazing down upon the city like every night she does. The whole journey to Forte was like a dream, but her memory with Frédéric, Allegretto, Beat, Viola and Andantino tells her clearly that it was all real.

There are sounds of footsteps coming from behind. Used to her mother's, Polka can tell it is not Solfége.

'Oh, Allegretto?' She does not expect he would come. 'It's just you? Where're the others?'

'Oh, they're all fine. Beat and Frédéric have arrived in Ritardando this afternoon. Once we have everyone we'll head for Baroque.'

Allegretto goes to join Polka at the cliff. He sits at her side. This is the first time he and Polka are together all by themselves. He truly hopes that this moment can remain forever.

'So this is what Ritardando looks like from far away, huh? From way up here, it actually looks really beautiful.'

'Oh?'

'Yeah, but when you're down there it's all cluttered and noisy, and the streets are dirty. The reality isn't nearly as peaceful.'

'… I see.'

'But I guess this is how you see it all the time, huh? I gotta admit, it's not too shabby.'

Though smiling as he said, it is hard to tell whether this is Allegretto's true feeling or being sarcastic. Polka feels a little bit sad.

'It's strange. I seem to remember the view being much more beautiful when I was younger. Even though there weren't nearly as many lights then as there are now.'

'Hmm… I think I know why.' Allegretto points to the sky. 'Look.'

Polka does as he says. Far above stars of different sizes and brightness are sparkling. It is a clear night sky with no cloud or moon, but strangely, there ought to be more observing from countryside…

'Back when the lights from the town weren't so bright, I bet you could see way more stars. As the town got brighter and you could see fewer and fewer stars, maybe that's when the view started to get a little less beautiful.'

'The stars… yes, you're right. I think that must be what it is.'

Gazing at Polka's innocent face from sideway, Allegretto's worry rises again. If she had not been ill, she might have been much more cheerful and energetic like most other teenage girls are.

'Hey, by the way, Polka… how're you, uh… y'know, are you feeling okay these days?

'I'm fine.' Polka says, smiling. 'I enjoy myself so much when I'm with all of you, sometimes I even forget I have this illness.'

She looks back at the sea.

'You know, I've been thinking about it a lot, and if I couldn't use magic, I don't think I would have ever felt this desire to go out and help other people like this. If that had been the case, I would have never set out on this journey, and I probably would have never had the chance to meet you.'

'I know it's fine and all to want to do things for others, but Polka, shouldn't you really be thinking a bit more about yourself? Don't be afraid to speak up about the things you want to do and the places you want to see.'

'But I'm fine, Allegretto. Being able to travel around with all of you, that's enough for me.'

'Why do you say things like that?' Allegretto pads hard on the grass. 'You may not have that much time left to live!'

There are few seconds of dead air when they look at each other. Polka looks very sorry. Discovering that he has overreacted, Allegretto quickly apologizes.

'I'm sorry, I just…'

'No, it's okay.'

'This is all so frustrating. More than anything, but what the heck can I do?' Allegretto looks at his both hands. 'If I knew, I would do it.'

'I… I had no idea you'd been worrying about me this much, but, for some reason, knowing this… actually makes me feel kind of happy.'

This is a feeling she has never experienced before, different from that from Solfége. It makes her blush and her heart beats. What is it?

The two of them just sit and enjoy the peaceful moment. Meanwhile Allegretto is trying to work out Solfége's meaning. In this world, anyone with fatal illness can use magic. This is commonsense to everyone. Can it be that there is an exception?

_Polka is chained to a tragic fate. Someday she will sacrifice herself._

_Wait! If it is the other way round, that anyone close to death can use magic, then suffering from terminal illness is just one possibility. Maybe Polka is not exactly ill, that means…!_

Unexpectedly, Polka stands up.

'Maybe I should just jump off this cliff right now. Then maybe, a new life would be waiting for me. A life without sickness and fear.'

She closes her eyes as if she is ready to make the jump. Alarmed, Allegretto stands up quickly.

'Wait! WAIT, Polka!'

Polka is taken back by Allegretto's reaction. He does not actually think she is really going to jump, does he?

'What's the matter, Allegretto? You look so shaken. Even if I don't have long to live, I certainly won't do something as stupid as that… but thank you anyway for wanting to stop me from doing it.'

Due to her ability to use magic she is shunned out by many, but now there is a teenage boy willing to care about her and do anything necessarily for her. Polka blushes again and looks away, this time wearing a full smile of gratefulness.

'All right, how about I have my special treasure make the jump for me? It can go in my place.'

From her pocket Polka takes out what seems to be a small piece of rock. After making a short wish on it she throws it down the cliff to the sea. Both of them watches it fall until it is out of view.

'What did you throw?'

'It's just an unusually shaped rock, but it's been with me as early as I had memories, so it's the perfect thing to take my place.'

'What? It was just a rock? That was your treasure?'

Allegretto frowns. What is the value of a piece of rock anyway? Looks like girls sometimes do things that boys never understand.

'Oh, speaking of rock, I found one with a weird shape today at the shore by Ritardando. Here.'

He pulls out the stone from his pocket and gives it a toss before showing it to Polka. Apart from its unusual colour of pinkish purple it looks more like a curved bead than a normal rock. At the sight of it, Polka is shocked and her eyes widen.

'Huh? This is…'

'Keep it. Hold on to this stone in place of the one you threw away. Besides I'm sure this one is much more unusual. Look how weird the shape is.'

Polka looks back and forth from the stone to Allegretto. This shape, this weight, this colour, everything is identical to the one she has just thrown away! Her round eyes are so close to his that he suddenly feels awkward, and looks away from her.

'Um… but don't throw this one away, okay? After all, it's the first gift I've ever given to a girl. Well I guess I'll see you soon in the city.'

Leaving Polka still looking mutedly shocked, Allegretto leaves for Ritardando, questions exploding inside his mind like firework.

That moment Polka pretended to jump down, a mysterious scene flashed in his mind.

A world devoid of lives, the ground is red and cracked…

Polka standing on tiptoe at the end of a cliff, arms raised, eyes closed, clearly about to leap down…

_What is the meaning of this! Somehow, it is like I have seen it before, but where?_

Allegretto has no idea why he is this fidgety. He only feels that a part of his heart or body is missing.

Nocturne Op. 9: No. 2

**Nocturne**

This is a work composed around 1830, when Chopin was twenty years old.

In November of this year, the November Uprising took place in Warsaw, and Chopin left the country just before the chaos.

This piece might have been one Chopin composed prior to that while he was still in Warsaw.

Chopin himself escaped the fires of the November Uprising because he was in Austria.

But many of his family members and friends remained in the chaos of Warsaw.

As a Pol, Chopin had wanted to fight together with them, and was frustrated at his inability to do so.

It is hard to imagine that Chopin could have written so sweet a melody while experiencing such emotions.

From this composition we feel something that conjures an image of Chopin's heart, peaceful and fulfilled.

Perhaps that reason lay with Konstancja Gladkowska, a woman for whom Chopin had a secret affection.

Konstancja attended the same music school as Chopin and was training to become a singer.

Chopin was unable to confess his love for her, and spent nearly a year feeling this unrequited love.

The two of them suddenly grew close just before Chopin left Warsaw.

They performed a piece together from Rossini's musical, "La Donna del Lago," to great success.

Konstancja's voice blended with Chopin's piano and reverberated through the concert hall.

It must have given Chopin a feeling of connection to Konstancja, as well as a dream-like experience that he never wanted to end.

Chopin is called the "poet of the piano".

But if we look inside his heart, he was just a normal twenty-year-old young man.

Perhaps Chopin was simply more skilled at expressing his true feelings through the piano.

Viola, Salsa and March also arrived at Ritardando a few days later. Now that Dolce and her fellow pirates are eliminated from the sea, regular ships between Ritardando and Baroque has resumed service again. It is much more comfortable travelling by sea, and faster. It just needs half a day for the group to arrive at Baroque. Crescendo greets them all to his castle in person.

This day Beat, Salsa and Viola are playing cards on a circular table. Outside the window, the big snowfall seems endless, yet it is always warm indoor – all household in Baroque has at least one fireplace, and this certainly includes the Baroque Castle.

'Oh forget this. I'm in last place again.'

Viola tosses her cards on the table in discouragement after losing six rounds in a row. Before Beat and Salsa were born she has already been playing. How come she is losing to two kids seventeen years younger?

'What are you talking about, Viola?' Beat tries to cheer her up. 'You're in third place!'

'He's right, you know.' This is the first time Salsa has anything to agree with Beat. 'Third place is a bronze medal! Not bad at all!'

On the contrary this only makes Viola angrier than before.

'Hey, are you two trying to make fun out of me? I'm in third place out of three players! You can't tell me that deserves a bronze medal!'

Third place out of three players, in another word, the last, which is usually accompanied by other negative jeering of the worst, the stupidest and the lowest. Viola does not raise her voice, but by the look on her face Beat obviously senses the danger.

'No! We didn't mean that.' He tries to go to Salsa for help. 'Come on, say something to her.'

'Yeah. Beat's right. Without you, old lady, we wouldn't…'

'What?'

Salsa covers her mouth with her hands.

'Oh. Oops. Without you playing, the game wouldn't be any fun at all,_ sweet and kind Lady Viola_.'

Anyone is too stupid not to notice Salsa is suppressing her grin under that amateur pleading expression. Viola is fed up. Yeah, without her _losing_, the game will not be fun to _them_. Just since when these two get along so well with each other?

'Well, whatever. Anyway, I'll play again later if I'm in the mood.'

She tosses a wave over her shoulder as she walks away from the table, and leaves the room.

'Great, nice job Salsa.' Beat says crossly. 'You could have at least let Viola beat you a couple of times. Now she got mad and left.'

'What about you? You could have lost a few, too. If she keeps getting bronze medals the whole time, the old lady might decide not to play with us.'

If Beat could have done this, he would have let Viola win long ago. Being a street urchin means plenty of chances to watch and practice card games in streets, because gambling means money, and winning means he can have more to spend on food. Had Allegretto been here, he might even have criticized that Beat's skills were still too young and immature just then, but those were already more than enough to beat Viola. Cheating is very common in these card games, and Beat and Allegretto know more than anyone, yet they learn those tricks only to watch out for cheaters. Their prides tell them to always win fairly.

Now that Viola is gone, there is absolutely no fun playing with just two players. Beat sits back on his chair, yawning.

'It's already been a whole week since we arrived in Baroque. I'm so bored.'

Salsa agrees with him for the second time.

'You can say that again. I'm tired of sitting around.'

Elsewhere in the castle, others are not as relaxed as they are. For the past two hours Jazz has been urging Crescendo to take action against Waltz. The prince's dilemma of unable to assist Andantino is understandable, but that does not mean Baroque can turn its head away from the problem.

'After Waltz makes his moves it'll be too late to do anything. Dozens of people have already lost their lives to the mineral powder. If we don't eliminate the source of the powder, we can never hope to resolve this.'

'… But war is simply a battle of egos, a desire to surpass your adversary. I'm afraid that as long as both sides feel that way, this class will continue indefinitely. It's not worth it. By placing so much effort into this never ending battle, we lose sight of other things that matter more. Ultimately, whatever the real issue was is forgotten, and replaced by this challenge, this battle for power. You may still think you are fighting your opponent… but at some point, it's no longer about who wins or loses. It's just a power struggle, a childish fight between adults who should know better. It's just embarrassing.'

Crescendo's gentle personality allows him to be a kind and caring prince to his people, but as the leader of a country this sometimes can be a disadvantage when hard decision has to be made. Afraid of this and worried about that, this is not how a ruler should be like.

'Sir, when you eliminate all other possibilities, you cannot escape the truth that remains, no matter how difficult it may be to accept. Moreover, who says this fight is about power? It is about the health and welfare of the people of _both_ countries! Even if you can keep Baroque safe, don't you care about other countries? Do you think Waltz will leave them alone once he has an army of berserkers?'

Crescendo restlessly walks around. Jazz cannot help but feel impatient.

'Prince Crescendo, do you know you have been acting strange? You are trying by all means to avoid the subject of Waltz lately, as if…'

'… I already know.'

'What?'

'I realized it a long time ago, that a Forte spy had infiltrated my inner circle, and was hiding very close to me.'

'So it's true then?' Jazz demands. 'Who is it?'

'Jazz, my friend, could you please give me some time alone, to think? I want to find the best answer.'

Jazz hesitates in his heart. This wait can mean days or maybe weeks, and by that time everything may have drastically changed. There is really not much time for Crescendo to think, yet perhaps leaving him alone for the time being is better than pushing him.

'Fine.'

Jazz sighs, then departs.

After his shadow has disappeared behind the doors, Crescendo murmurs aloud.

'I know you're here. It doesn't matter to me whose side you're really on. In fact, if there's one thing I'm sure of it's that the things you've said are absolutely true. I always knew that you were connect to Count Waltz. I assumed you were assigned the role of preventing Baroque, and me, from attacking Forte first. An attack from Baroque would be a problem for Forte, so Count Waltz sent you to me as insurance.'

He knows there will be no response to his assumption, so he talks on.

'The more you rejected the notion of war, the more my suspicious were confirmed. But I know you, and I understand that this is not the real reason why you oppose this war. There are absolutely no arguments that I can use against you. Once I realized that… I could no longer see aiding Andantino as a just course of action. No… a rebellion no longer serves us any purpose. To avert this war… we have to find a new solution. Well? Wouldn't you agree?'

Hiding between a grandfather clock and a cupboard overhearing everything, is the future-princess of Baroque.

Serenade.

Viola wanders around the castle. Except for Crescendo and Serenade's rooms, they are basically free to go anywhere they like. The soldiers are informed that she and her companions are the prince's important guests, so no one stops to question her along the way.

Allegretto seems to be in the training room practicing. March is reading in the library. As Viola walks past the corridor outside the grand hall she hears music – piano. She stops to listen.

The melody is that pleasant to listen to, as if it has the power to cleanse man's hearts and melt all the melancholy away. It must be Frédéric playing the piano. She never knows that he is this good.

'It's beautiful, isn't it?'

Polka happens to be coming from the other end of the corridor. For a while the two of them just stands outside the door listening. They do not know whether Frédéric is practicing or merely playing for his own amusement, yet the two of them are like audiences listening to his mini-concert. Under his fingers all the notes seem to have become pearls echoing throughout the whole castle.

'Hey, Polka,' Viola says suddenly, 'do you believe in good luck charms?'

'Yes, I tend to take them too seriously.'

'Okay, then I'll teach you a good one. Hold your fingers out like this.'

Viola holds out her hand extending her thumb and little finger, the rest are curled in a fist. Polka imitates.

'Like this?'

'Yeah, just hold your hand like this in front of the person you love. If you do this, the charm's supposed to make them fall in love with you, too. Easy, huh?'

Polka's eyes widen in excitement.

'That's it? Really?'

'Really, and you can see the results right away. Hey, how about giving it a try next time you see Allegretto?'

Polka's face turns as pink as rhododendrons. In fact this makes her kind of pretty and cute, Viola thinks as she watches Polka runs away. How can one not take a liking on such a sweet and kind-hearted girl?

This is perhaps what others mean by youth.

Frédéric is now playing another piece. Viola is about to leave when she sees Jazz coming to her direction. She can tell from his expression that his meeting with Crescendo has not been a good one.

'Well, Jazz? Is your meeting thing over?'

'Not yet. It's an important decision. I don't think it's something he can decide on quite that easily. He's going to think about it alone. It seems like it's going to take him a little while, so let's spend the day tomorrow outside, alright?'

'Okay, I'll tell Beat and Salsa later on.'

'By the way, I don't think I've ever heard of that "charm" before.'

As a matter of fact Jazz has come to look for Frédéric, knowing that he is a more reliable person to discuss matters with. Not wishing to disturb him playing the piano he has intended to stay outside and wait, and has coincidentally heard everything.

'Well, yeah, of course you haven't heard of it.' Viola says. 'It's something I thought up just now. Maybe I should patent it.'

Jazz certainly knows that she is joking, but nevertheless he smiles.

'Don't joke around with her too much, Viola.'

'Don't worry about it. Of course the charm doesn't work. I was just trying to give her a little courage. Watching her bitter face is making me crazy.'

'… I see.'

The piano inside has stopped. Jazz thinks it is okay to go in, so he pushes open the doors and walks in. Viola watches him go, and sighs.

_Maybe I'm the one who really needs courage._

For a moment, Viola thinks she can see her hand aiming at Jazz performing the exact 'charm' she has invented. Is this her hand? Or is it all in her head?

Unexpectedly Jazz turns around.

'What about you?'

'… heh? What?'

Viola looks like she has just woke up from her dream. She looks at her hands – both are at her side.

'Do you have someone special like that too, Viola?'

'Don't be silly, of course I do. He's with me all the time. Arco?'

Furry little Arco answers by popping up from Viola's shoulder. This is without doubt not what Jazz means. Not knowing whether Viola tries to make fun of him or not, Jazz shakes his head and closes the doors, leaving Viola standing outside.

_Claves, then Falsetto…_

_Looks like I'm third out of three players._

_I'm the bronze medal winner again._

The next morning everyone gathers in the entrance hall on time. It is already boring enough for them to stay inside the castle for a whole week, so everyone is in a good mood ready to head outside exploring around. Jazz has borrowed some coats for them and they set out.

Frédéric, Polka, Beat and Salsa had only been around the castle gate area last time, so this is the first time they go sightseeing in the city as well. Due to the low average temperature throughout the year, there are bars everywhere serving hot drinks to keep people warm, hence the number of pedestrians on the road is not as low as they have thought even though it is snowing. Actually the snowflakes have added a layer of romance to the city. There are painters fighting against the wind trying to capture the beautiful snowfall under their pen, children skiing and having snowball fight on frozen lakes, couples holding hands strolling along the street, and even a priest preaching.

'… never forget, the light is always with you. It sees all things, both good and evil.'

March catches some of his words.

'I think that's a priest.'

'What's a priest?' Salsa asks. 'Is it warm? Does it taste good?'

'Oh, Salsa, don't be silly. It's disrespectful.'

Polka has never seen a priest before and wants to hear more what he says. Passers-by are perhaps either in a hurry or too used to his presence that no one pays attention to him. Listening to him may be a way of giving him some encouragement.

'Shall we listen to him for a while?'

'What?' Allegretto says. 'Do we have to?'

'I just want some hot soup,' says Salsa.

Yet they are the only two complaining, as the rest of them are approaching to listen. They have no choice but to follow.

'… what you see with your eyes is not the truth. It will disappear the moment it is touched. For it is not the truth, the path leading to it is false. Only the faithful can see the truth. Pure actions will cultivate your heart. Sinful actions will cloud your heart. Walk toward the light. Though each step may be difficult, a shining future awaits you between the sky and sea.'

The priest notices the party and bows to them.

'Thank you for stopping to listen in this cold. You must be very devout.'

None of them have any religious background. Allegretto and Beat were raised by Mandolin Church, but they never actually join it.

'There's no priest in our village.' Showing the element of having all the social skills in the family, March also bows to him. 'It's an honor to meet you. Your words are very moving.'

'It seems you have an interest in learning about the light. Well then, I suggest you visit Aria Temple. There you can feel the light more strongly, and you might even able to touch it.'

March turns to the party.

'Well! We have time now, don't we? If so, I'd like to see that temple. What about all of you? Would you like to see Aria Temple?'

'Wait right there, March.' Salsa says with her hands on her waists. 'You can't just tell everyone what to do! Being selfish like that will disrupt our teamwork!'

The thought _it should be _you_ who disrupt our teamwork_ flashes in Beat and Viola's heads. What March does here is on the contrary asking for everyone's opinion before action – a democratic voting. If too many people object, then no, but if most people agree, then yes.

'I think it's all right.' Frédéric says. 'I guess I can give it a look.'

'Yes,' says Polka. 'Let's go take a look.' She turns to Allegretto. 'Okay?'

'If it means not having to listen to lectures in the snow, I'll go anywhere.'

Aria Temple is in the Celesta Forest just to the North of Baroque. To the locals, the forest is also known as the 'Snow Forest of Peony'. In summer all the peonies blossoms, making the place as beautiful as a royal garden, while in winter snowflakes cover the pine trees turning the forest into a wonderland from fairy tales.

It is not difficult to find the temple, being the only establishment here. Contrast to what most believe to be a cathedral-like building, the Aria Temple appears more like a huge crystal mace made completely out of ice. The word 'holy' automatically jumps into everyone's mind. It seems that not only this temple, the whole forest is already a sanctuary itself.

After much admiration, the party are about to approach the entrance when Polka halts.

'Huh? Hey, everyone, I think I saw someone go in that door just now.'

Beat has a quick look around the entrance.

'Really? I didn't see anyone going anywhere, Polka.'

'Yeah,' Allegretto agrees. 'I really doubt that there is anyone around here.'

'Are you sure? I could have sworn it looked like it was a woman.'

Behind Polka, Jazz frowns thoughtfully. Allegretto approaches the door and rattles the doorknob, which does not move.

'It's locked.'

Then it means no one can have been here. Frédéric points at the doorknob with his baton wand and in a second it is unlocked.

'Let's get in.'

The whole place is more like a white palace more than a temple. The pillars, the walls, the corridors, even the ceilings, everything is transparent. Polka walks to the nearest wall and feels it. Turns out this entire temple is made out of ice, without the help of any brick or metal. Due to the eternal winter here, the ice never melts throughout the whole year. The sunlight enters the temple from the top, after multiple reflections and refractions and finally reaches the bottom, so that the temperature inside is just slightly cooler than autumn weather.

The party finds their way around. The place looks exceptionally roomy due to the transparency of the ice, but it turns out there is only one passage all the way up. This temple can easily be the highest building everyone has ever been. No matter how they walk, there is always another stairway waiting for them at the end of each long corridor. Salsa, March and Beat have to take rest more often, and the rest of the party stop and wait for them. The moment they look into their reflection in the ice walls, it instantly creates another reflection behind at the ice wall behind. Since the walls are in parallel, all the reflections multiply and multiply endless until the copies cannot be seen in the infinite virtuosity.

Although the walkway seems endless, the party has finally reaches the end on the top floor. Hearing what Polka said earlier about someone might have infiltrated the temple, Jazz has his broadsword ready as everyone looks around, yet to their surprise there is not even a human shadow.

'What?' Polka says. 'It's just a dead end.'

'See?' Beat says. 'I told you you were just seeing things.'

Everyone is looking at Polka with a puzzled look. Polka can feel her cheeks going red.

'But I'm sure I saw someone. She was right there, going in the entrance…'

'Incredible. Here you are. You really come to Baroque.'

The voice does not belong to anyone in the party. Alarmed that there is someone else here, the party turns around. Coming out from behind a pillar is a woman, hair tied in a pony tail by a purple rose. A pair of triangular swords is held on her back. Almost everything in this building is transparent, but no one has the slightest idea on how she has managed to stay unnoticed among them. Jazz recognizes who she is instantly.

'Rondo!'

'Listen carefully, I have business with that girl. If you all do precisely as I say, I won't harm the rest of you.'

Allegretto quickly shields himself in front of Polka.

'You have to get past me first, woman!'

Violin-sword in hand, Allegretto leaps at Rondo, who does not draw her swords. There is no way Allegretto does not understand the meaning of this. His grip on the handle tightens.

'Watch the countless starlight on the night sky! _Starlight Flash_!'

A brand new move invented during the stay in Andante, it is as if Allegretto's sword has turned into a mist of white light. This move does not focus on force but speed. The purpose is to confuse the enemy as much as possible before giving the fatal blow at the last strike. It is composed of eight attacks, each time different according to the waver's mood and the actual situation, such that there can be thousands of variation and the enemy will not be able to predict the attacks easily. Hearing that this woman is coming for Polka, each of Allegretto's strike is aiming at either Rondo's head or heart. Yet although he slashes fast, Rondo's evasions are even faster. The first time Allegretto using his ultimate move and it is already countered so lightly, he does not know whether he should be scared or angry.

'I have no time to play with you, boy.'

Allegretto cannot be more furious, and urges full strength on each of his attack, but this on the contrary only makes the matter even worse. Once too much power is poured into the sword, the agility and speed of _Starlight Flash_ immediately vanishes, and it only drains his body strength faster without gaining anything.

Jazz has been keeping a close eye on the fight. Rondo's skills are in fact no weaker than his. To fight evenly, not to mention beating her, there is simply no way Allegretto can do that!

'Calm down, Allegretto! You can't win like this!'

Hearing this, Allegretto can only be even angrier.

_Even you look down on me!_

No matter it is first-hand experience or skills, Rondo's are far more superior and deadlier than his. After all Rondo is the first assassin of Forte and she has been going through the toughest and most professional training way before Allegretto was born, while he had no one to properly learn from or tell him how to improve.

'So easy to be provoked, unable to control your emotions. How weak and reckless you are.'

Rondo's elbow knocks hard on Allegretto's abdomen. In that instant it is as if thousands of golden stars are flashing before his eyes as he loses balance and falls. When the room gradually comes back into focus, Allegretto finds that Rondo has her right forearm pointing at his chest. Hidden beneath her bracer is a miniature firearm!

'Know your limit, and you would know you should never have stuck your head in my way…'

'NO!'

'Allegretto!'

'Retto!'

'Run!'

There is no way one can survive if one receives a straight shot through the chest. Polka, Beat, Salsa and March all scream out loud, with Polka being the loudest. Viola immediately knocks an arrow and at the same time Frédéric and Jazz take out their weapons and charges, but how can the speed of an arrow and human legs can ever compete with a merciless bullet? The next moment Rondo is going to pull the trigger, and Allegretto is going to be a ghost before her…

However a shadow from nowhere suddenly knocks Rondo away, saving Allegretto's neck just in time.

– w_hat?_

Before he gets up, the shadow is already dueling with Rondo. Short hair, emerald eyes, blue army coat.

Falsetto.

'Looks like you still haven't learnt, Falsetto.'

In a blink, Rondo has already got her twin blades in hand and launched three slashes at Falsetto, who blocks them all with two large shield-like objects mounted on her forearms. A short but sharp blade comes out from each of them. Jazz knows they are one of Falsetto's hand-to-hand favourite weapons – katars.

'I won't run away anymore! I have to defeat you, now and here!'

'Not bad, for someone like you to be able to track me down to here.'

Even in the heat of the duel, Rondo's voice is still calm and emotionless as ice, while Falsetto roars like a tiger every time she stabs at Rondo. Though the two of them are using close-range weapons, Rondo's twin swords obviously can offer longer protection range compared to Falsetto's katars. No matter how Falsetto tries to attack, her katars can still not penetrate Rondo's three feet defense line.

'Perhaps we should've had you ferret out information about Andantino. Actually, it's not too late. What do you think? Would you like to take the place of Claves? You could work with us.'

Swords in both hands, Rondo targets Falsetto's neck and stabs. Falsetto reflectively lies backward, allowing the blades pass just above her nose like a pair of scissors. This is one of Rondo's signature move _Fer de Lance_.

'Think about it. Everyone here except that girl will die. No one will ever find out that you're a spy.'

What answered Rondo is sharp wind.

'I won't!'

Falsetto's left katar is knocked off, swirling in the air.

'Absolutely won't!'

The right katar is sliced into two. Rondo sees that Falsetto has no weapons.

'Farewell, Falsetto.'

Falsetto senses sharp wind aiming at her waist, feeling her blood freezes.

_It's over!_

It will end in before she knows, then she will be gone.

_Is this what death feels like?_

_No matter, I__'__ll be joining Claves_.

The scene Claves died in her arms reappears in darkness.

_Defeat Waltz… tell Jazz I'm… sor…_

And Claves's face clearly burst into her mind.

_I can't die here…!_

_I will fight!_

At this moment, something within Falsetto seems to be triggered.

Everything becomes distinctively clear. The flow of air around her, the locus of the enemy's sword, even every tiny flaw on Rondo's armour, Falsetto can sense them all simultaneously…

This strike of Rondo's is nothing but fast, yet it does not cut into flesh as she has thought. What her sword meets is nothing more than thin air.

_What the…!_

Falsetto has abruptly disappeared, right before her eyes. Or rather, Falsetto has ducked away in a speed that it makes her look like she has disappeared

… _where's she?_

It happens so quickly that Rondo is taken back, but she quickly remains calm. Falsetto is nothing more than a human. Tricks do not work on Forte's number one assassin. Rondo looks around, listening, sensing for any movement...

_Over there!_

Distinguishing movement from behind, Rondo turns around and stabs in full strength, seeing Falsetto shows no intention of dodging, but then something she can never believe happens.

Falsetto raises her left hand, and intercepts the sword by clutching on the blade!

This is impossible! It is said that the most superior fighters can do the same barehanded, but that requires at least both hands, not to mention extremely precise timing. Though Falsetto is wearing gauntlets, if she fails her hand would have been cut off. This bold, almost rash decision shocks everyone, including Rondo. Falsetto's grip tightens and, following the sound of metal shatters, the upper part of Rondo's sword is broken into pieces by bare hand.

Taking the advantage, Falsetto flips over and delivers a double flip-kick _Phoenix Rising_, sending Rondo straight into the air. Falsetto does not stop there. In the meantime she also leaps up high, and deals a heavy airborne turning kick _Willow Strike_ right into Rondo's abdomen.

'... ergh!'

It is a power that should not be owned by humans. Rondo flies horizontally away, completely unable to regain balance. She mourns as her back collides hard against the wall. If it had not been her armors absorbing part of the force, not only her backbone would have been broken in that impact, the kick would have also penetrated her abdomen, which would have instantly killed her.

Seeing such monstrous strength in just one blow, the party is all shocked, except Jazz.

'Wh… what's going on?'

The look upon Falsetto's face as she stares at the fallen Rondo is more terrible than everyone has ever seen. There is raging fury in every line of her face, dyed in a demonic hue of violet.

Rondo struggles to stand up. A line of blood runs down at the corner of her mouth.

_This can't be happening!_

Grasping the handle of the remaining sword in two hands she leaps at Falsetto, who uses her palms to pad on the blade to deflect all its strikes away. From just then, Falsetto seems to have dropped all her restrains. Her movements are completely different from before. Rondo can hardly catch up with Falsetto's speed, but this only further humiliates her. Someone using a sword is losing to one who is armless?

'Why? I'm the perfect assassin!'

'You just don't get it, Rondo!'

This is the first time Falsetto speaks in this form. Her voice sounds barely human.

'Get what?'

'Emptied of emotions allows you to remain calm and analyze the deadliest attacks, but obviously you've underestimated the power anger and determination can give you! You only know following Waltz's command, you're nothing but a puppet!'

It is said that during critical situations like an outbreak of fire or lives saving, humans can have superhuman strength say carrying extremely heavy weight, which can never even dream of carrying in normal daily life. However this is a double-edge sword – anger can at the same time clouds people's eyes and make them lose their wits. Those that are easily provoked are thus the first one to lose their lives. Rondo sneers at the words.

'Who needs such barbarous sentiments? They cloud our eyes and are better gone from this world!'

She fires a quick shot at Falsetto's feet, but as the light and fire dies it is only the floor that turned charcoal.

'That's why you can never go beyond what you are now.'

The voice comes from directly above. Shocked, Rondo looks up above.

'Emotions and wits must be one…'

Falsetto is hanging on the ceiling, her weight supported by a pair of blades on her elbows, apparently extended from her gauntlets. If Rondo has not seen it with her own eyes she can never imagine one can ever jump this high. Falsetto bolts down.

'This synthesis, is what makes the true – perfect – warrior!'

The violet hue under her face drastically deepens to purple and spreads to all over her body. Blood fills up her eyes, her joints all over her body crack. A sense of power radiates from her as though she is giving off burning heat. For the first time, expression is shown in Rondo's face.

'You vile rat!'

Rondo raises both her forearms and bullets are showering at Falsetto like violent waves. Falsetto's evasions are so fast that she is like possessed by a demon, or rather she is the incarnation of the devil from Hell. It appears that Rondo's bullets automatically avoids Falsetto more than the latter dodges the former. Normally speaking humans can never move faster than bullets, but the reflexes of Falsetto are now boosted to the level that she manages to predict every trajectory as soon as she sees where Rondo's forearms are aiming at, so that she has already leaped away before Rondo can pull the triggers. Rondo has long forgotten to count how many shots she has fired, all she wants now is to blast this woman, who has surpassed her in every aspect, into pieces – suddenly, there is no response from the triggers.

– _!_

Both her firearms have run out of bullets. Provoked by Falsetto she has committed the exact mistake she has mentioned herself to Allegretto. When it comes to dueling between experts, winning is usually determined by a split second. Discovering Rondo's situation, Falsetto immediately closes in, whose elbow blades are hunger for blood. Rondo gasps – Falsetto's ultra counterattack is about to come.

_No good!_

It is already too late for her to correct her mistake. Falsetto's left elbow-blade has sunken into her left shoulder joint. Its edge is razing sharp, and Falsetto is striking with such titanic force, that Rondo's entire left arm is instantaneously severed from her body.

Before realizing the pouring red liquid is her own blood, there is another flash of silver flickers before her eyes. The next second her remaining sword flies away in a red arc in the air. Falsetto's another elbow-blade has swung upward and cut through Rondo's right wrist. The two blows are dealt almost within a blink. If there had been any inaccuracy in Falsetto's balance, she would have fallen and instead become Rondo's target, yet not only has she maintained the risky balance, she even managed to deal a follow-up hit. During this brief moment, both of Rondo's hands are lost, and she is instantly rendered disabled.

'By lightening thunder will you be thrown! By wind will you be scattered! Heaven and Earth!'

Springing out from Falsetto's gauntlets are in total six metal claws, each one at least ten inches long, glittering like frost and snow.

'_Howling Fangs_!'

No more hesitation or mercy, Falsetto's claws feast on enemy's flesh. Hooks cut into the breastplate, claws then rip the iron and linen beneath apart. Smelling the scent of fresh blood, Falsetto attacks even more savage than before. Originally her ultimate move is named _Howling Thunder_, a multi-scratch attack with fingers crawled into claws. While Claves was alive, she also had a multi-slash move known as _Wolf Fang_. Noticing the similarity and in memorial of her, Falsetto analyzed and integrated their two weapons and moves together.

White hot knives are piercing every inch of Rondo's body, her head is surely going to burst with pain. The hooks on the six claws are all curving inward. When they are pulled out from the enemy's body the hooks tear fleshes out, each time inducing torturing pain. It is so intense, so all consuming, that Rondo no longer knows where she is. She is screaming more loudly than she has ever screamed in her life. Polka shuts her eyes tight as she wraps Beat in her arms to hide him from watching Falsetto tearing Rondo apart. Crimson petals stain the sanctuary of God, only those are not of flowers but blood. All this blood belongs to herself, even Rondo finds it unbelievable…

'_This_ is farewell, Rondo!'

What seems to be an endless battle finally comes to an end. All three of Falsetto's right claws drive squarely into Rondo's left chest, popping out through her back. Feeling the weakening heartbeat, Falsetto cannot suppress her desire to laugh.

_Rondo is no more._

_It's me who killed her._

'… huh… huh, haha… ha… HA –––– HAHAHAHA…'

_I did it. I've beat her, Forte's first assassin._

_I've torn her apart. She died the most painful death._

_I did it… Claves… I've avenged you…_

It has absolutely been one of the bloodiest scenes everyone has ever seen. No one can imagine that such a dark side exists under that straight and honest face. Falsetto is covered in blood, with something seems to be heart tissue still hanging on her claws. The expression on her face is fearsome, but that purple hue is gone and her eyes have turned back to normal.

'Fal… Falsetto… are you alright?'

Allegretto asks gingerly. The fighting style of Falsetto just then was so violent that he thinks she may suddenly launch at them.

'…'

Falsetto closes her eyes and falls…


	6. Chapter 6 Tristesse

It takes me a long time to finish this. I took reference from the Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers for the battle between Forte and Baroque, and Gundam Seed as well for the fight between Jazz and Waltz. Hope you like it. Please enjoy. I do not owe Eternal Sonata or any of its character, place and name. Chapter VII Heroic is almost done.

CHAPTER VI

TRISTESSE

Falsetto has passed out for two days.

The party carried her to an inn in the city area after the fight with Rondo, waiting for her to regain consciousness. Frederic used his magic to clean up Falsetto's clothes and body before they enter and lied to the receptionist that she was just too tired from the long journey coming here.

The phenomenon happened on Falsetto, as Jazz explained, was due to her practice of a martial manual, which can grant the user the ability to enter a short 'Burst Mode' for a few minutes. As a trade-off, overuse of this can quickly exhaust the user. It was only fortunate for her that her practice on the manual is not very deep or else it could really have driven her mad had she fought any longer. Knowing his childhood friend's personality, Jazz knew she would not listen no matter how many times he warned her of the possible danger behind.

In the morning of the second day Jazz calls the party together. It has been long enough, and Prince Crescendo has to have an answer by now.

Everyone nods and follow him behind to the castle. The streets are as normal as they can be, citizens buying goods, chatting and carrying out their daily lives. No one has any idea what happened at Aria Temple.

The guards of the front door let them enter. To their surprise servants and soldiers are running around in the hall. One senior officer sees Jazz and rushes to him.

'Jazz, sir, thank goodness you're here.'

'What's going here?'

The usual practice of the castle is that any new policy or news would be revealed to the public within two days, but the party has not heard anything on their way here. Something extremely serious must have happened.

'We've looked all around the castle, but we can't find Prince Crescendo or Princess Serenade anywhere!'

'What do you mean?'

'It's true. No one in the castle has seen them.'

'They've got to be somewhere,' says Allegretto. 'Let's try searching again.'

Jazz shakes his head.

'No, looking here is probably useless.'

Polka clasps her hand on her mouth.

'Do you think they…'

She does not continue, but obviously she has the same idea as Jazz, who nods darkly.

'Yes, I believe they're already heading for Forte. They're going to try and save Baroque by sacrificing themselves, by surrendering and becoming prisoners.'

'What?' Falsetto cannot believe her ears. If that is the case, then Crescendo and Serenade naturally had not brought any soldiers with them. 'Do they really think they can stop Waltz? If they make it to Forte, they have no chance!'

'I agree,' Viola says, remembering the hooded figures attacking her goats. 'Waltz isn't very sympathetic. He does not hesitate in sacrificing anyone in his path.'

'How long have they gone?' Frederic asks.

'We only found the prince and the princess missing this morning when they did not attend the meeting.'

Jazz does a quick calculation in his heart. They went to Aria Temple the day after his meeting with Crescendo. Including Falsetto's pass out then it would be at most two and a half day. Crescendo and Serenade probably are going on foot only. If they all set out now there is still hope of catching up with the two of them.

'We have to bring them back.' Jazz addresses to the officer. 'Please inform every available soldier in the castle to get ready immediately.'

'Yes, sir.'

The officer leaves. Jazz turns to the party.

'Now listen, you are not part of Andantino, so I have no right to give you any order. If you want to leave or stay here I won't stop you.'

'What are you talking about? Of course we're coming!' Allegretto says. 'Right, Polka?'

'Yes, I'm not a fighter, but I'll do my best to do whatever I can.'

'Count me in,' Salsa says. 'After all the captain has saved me from the sea and treated me with good food.'

'And I am going wherever Salsa is going.' March says. Frederic, Viola and Beat also nod beside her.

'Then that's it. Bring only what you need. We'll go once everyone is ready.'

1 day ago

'You're sure you want to come?'

Crescendo asked Serenade outside the gates to Baroque City. The two of them were wearing white cloaks, covering their head. Anyone looking at them from the back can never tell that they were prince and princess.

'Yes, I feel I must, for I am in part responsible for starting the conflict with Forte. If only I had realized sooner…'

'If I surrender unconditionally to Forte,' Crescendo cut in, 'it should be safe for you to stay in Baroque. Once I offer myself directly to Forte, that should satisfy them. They most likely won't make any attempt to invade Baroque. But you still insist?'

If anyone was to be sacrificed, Crescendo himself alone would be enough. There was still time for her to change her mind. Even now, the prince placed the safety of his fiancée's above his, and regarding what horrible fate he might have in the hands of Waltz, he never cared.

'I will speak with Count Waltz. Right now, I am the only one who can possibly save your life. I at least have to try.'

To Serenade, she was intended to be a pawn of Waltz at the first place. The marriage between her and Crescendo is nothing but a political decision. She knew he loved her with all his heart, though whether she felt the same way she did not know, but at this moment, all she knew was that she could never let a good prince, a good would-be-king who cared his people so much, die in vain. She had to make sure that Waltz also kept his promise.

Crescendo was very grateful.

'I expect the result will be the same. All you can do is just to delay the inevitable, but I am truly very glad to have you come with me, Serenade, thank you.'

He raised his head, looking towards the city. This was where he was born, where he grew and learnt. All the memories flooded in his mind.

_No doubt I won't be able return here._

_This parting will be forever._

There would surely be uproar in the castle if they found the two most important persons of the entire city missing. If they did not go now it would then be never. After a final gaze on their beloved city, without anyone seeing off, Crescendo and Serenade headed for the pathway to the big mountain ridge between Baroque and Forte – Mount Rock.

_Farewell, Baroque._

**Étude Op. 10: No. 3**

**Tristesse**

In 1852, the year after the fall of Warsaw, Chopin was in Paris.

At the time, France was friendly toward Poland and was the only country that openly welcomed exiles from Poland.

For that reason, Paris was filled with polish refugees.

Meanwhile, back in Poland, the leaders and central figures of the insurrection were judged in court, without being present and sentenced to death.

With the rebel forces defeated, it was now certain that Chopin could not return to his mother country.

This melancholy melody portrays both homesickness and an eternal farewell to his homeland.

But why could he never return?

Chopin left Poland before the insurrection and was outside the country the entire time it took place.

In other words, he had a perfect alibi proving that he had not been involved.

In spite of that, Chopin never returned to Poland.

The key to this mystery lies in Chopin's patriotism.

It is likely that he had felt the same feelings as the rebel even though he had not been able to participate in the fighting.

He probably felt guilty about having been living safely in foreign countries.

Chopin became a political refugee of his own choosing and burned his bridges behind him.

In so doing, he probably wanted to demonstrate that he was a comrade to the rebels and shared their feelings.

To Chopin, who loved Poland, the decision not to return to his home must have been a painful one.

But it was because he loved Poland that he chose not to return to it.

The twenty-two-year-old Chopin may have composed this song as a way to burn his homeland into his heart.

It is rumoured that Chopin himself said, "In my entire life, I have never written another melody as beautiful."

Perhaps these words speak of the view from the village of Zelazowa Wola, the place where he was born.

The fastest means of ground transport is to ride a horse, and there are plenty available in Baroque Castle. Soon the party has gathered around five hundred soldiers, and the whole team ride southwest.

One must travel through Cowbell Heights at the summit of Mount Rock, located at the border between Baroque and Forte. Not only rugged and rough is the way uphill, the exceptionally high amount of acidity in the soil prevents any vegetation from growing on the upper part of the mountain. Without tree roots holding the soil together, plus the long term erosion of wind, soil and rocks slowly turns to sand, and the mountain ridge is since then often attacked by sand storm.

Salsa, March and Beat are too small to ride on horses their own. As a result Jazz rides with Salsa, Falsetto rides with March, Allegretto with Beat and Viola with Polka. Apart from Jazz and Falsetto no one has ridden a horse before, but after some time everyone has got used to it. The speed of horses is several times faster than human legs even carrying two people, and it takes the party only a little more than three hours to reach Cowbell Heights.

A cowbell is an idiophone hand percussion instrument, named after the similar bell used by herdsmen to keep track of the whereabouts of cows. Indeed, many years ago local herdsmen did graze here, attracted by the beautiful grass field. Since the heights have often been covered by fog and low clouds, they used cowbells to help identify the herd to which those animals belonged, and also made it easier to find them. Yet because of overgrazing, the ecology of the heights is unbalanced and thus deemed unsuitable for any agricultural activity anymore.

The heights are covered by a thin layer of mist and vapour as expected. The more they go north the steeper and rougher the ground becomes, but Jazz seems to know the directions, and the party successfully reaches the foot of Mount Rock, their real challenge.

Jazz takes out his broadsword and gets off.

'Stand back.'

A gust of whirlwind is conjured from the sword. All the mist along its way is forced away. Revealing in front of the party is a towering doorway, framed inside the mountain. The hinges on it suggested that there were once rock doors here. Inside is only darkness, clearly leading deep inside the mountain.

Jazz turns to the party and explains.

'We'll take the short cut. If my calculation is correct Crescendo and Serenade should be at the other end of To Coda Ruins.'

Without any question, the party follows him into the mountain. The soldiers light up their torches. Frederic calls upon a beam of light from his wand and goes ahead beside Jazz at the front.

Coda in Italian means tail, and in music mostly to designating a passage which brings a piece or a movement to a conclusion, while To Coda is an instruction that indicates the performer should jump to the separate section marked with the Coda symbol.

The front part of the entrance has nothing of special interest, but as they move on signs of human activities begin to surface – broken containers, broad stairs and roads built by bricks. There are chambers of different dimensions and huge halls supported by giant pillars, crafted with unknown writings and drawings. Though called ruins, the place is more like a lost city. Turns out it is an enormous underground complex. Most of the structures are still intact, but there is hardly any wood anywhere. If it is not that the party is in a hurry of brining Crescendo and Serenade back, as Beat thinks, he can have taken lots of good pictures here and very likely make a decent profit on selling them.

They ride past a network of what appears to be houses, as they can see the outline of roof, windows and front doors, only that it is completely dark inside, making them looking exceptionally desolate and creepy. Clearly, this was once a residential district, only that all the residents have long become dust after maybe thousands of years.

This city perhaps once belonged to a great civilization. Its ruler, Polka thinks, might never have imagined even a city as magnificent as this one would be buried underground one day.

Nothing is forever.

'This is where Tenor and I parted ways,' says Jazz.

'What?' asks Frederic.

'I remember it well. The tide had turned against us, and retreat was our only option. I thought we'd be safe if we could just make it to Baroque.'

Frederic knows that he is talking about one of his unsuccessful revolution. Jazz does not seem to expect him to answer, so he just listens.

'I was such a fool. No sooner had we crossed the border than Forte's army came pouring through right over us. We finally made it here. This is where those of us who remained banded together to form our final stand.'

'Then Tenor is…?'

'The former Andantino leader. I still haven't forgotten his words. Having made up my mind to fight to the death, they weren't easy words for me to hear, but in order to carry out his wishes, Falsetto and I turned our backs on the blood and left the mountains behind.'

This implies Tenor was very likely killed in action. Jazz sighs.

'I wonder if I've lived up to everyone's expectations. Our revolution has been years, so many have sacrificed, and Waltz is still on the throne… am I doing the right thing?'

'I see…'

Facing Waltz, revolution seems to be an uncompromisable route, but now even Jazz cannot help but feel perplexed.

'However, fighting for what you think is just and precious to you, I don't think that is wrong.'

Jazz looks at Frederic, who is returning with a resolute eyesight.

'Tenor, Falsetto and you are trying to save Baroque and the citizens of Forte. Allegretto and Beat are here for the living of their fellow street urchins, Polka wants to help more people before she dies, Salsa and March are concerned about their forest and villagers, Viola needs to protect her home and animals, their wishes are not wrong.'

'Frederic…'

'I'm sure many other think the same way, that's why they join Andantino, to make Forte a better place. After all, revolutions are started not because we enjoy conflicts. We fight because we love our country, so believe in your own path and what you hold dear. Do your best in your own way, and that's fine.'

Frederic points out the most basic truth, so uncomplicated that Jazz almost forgets. The words are like a flow of pure stream, cleansing the entanglement in his heart.

'… Thank you.'

One that can pinpoint the nature of revolution that precisely, Frederic seems like one that has gone through a lot in the past. Now that Jazz thinks about it, he has not yet asked the origin of Frederic.

'Speaking of which, I still haven't asked where you're from.'

There is a slight hesitation before Frederic answers.

'I'm… not from this world. I was born in the city of Warsaw, in the country of Poland, and it was in the year 1810. This world is… my dream.'

Warsaw? Poland? Jazz has never heard of places with names like that before. He takes it that Frederic just does not want to disclose his past. Retired warriors and revolutionists avoiding this subject is a common practice. After all, everyone has their own privacy.

'Say what you like, but don't you think it's a little far-fetched to claim this world exists inside your dream? We've been living our lives each day, using our own free will and judgement to act for ourselves. It's not like we're just acting out a role in a story that somebody wrote.'

He tries to clarify the situation for Frederic.

'Have you ever tried thinking about it like this? Maybe the truth is the exact opposite. This is the real world, and that city called Warsaw, is actually a dream? That would make a lot more sense.'

But this does not put Frederic's worries to rest. That may be, yet this world is unquestionably a dream, a dream he is experiencing as he drifts over the abyss of death. Besides, even when in a dream, a person can decide his or her own actions. They can decide what happens next. In that respect, there is no way to differentiate between a dream and reality.

_What should I do?_

Suddenly his beam shines over two hooded figures at the far front ahead.

'Jazz, look there.'

'That must be them. Hey –!'

Crescendo and Serenade look back at once.

'What?' Serenade says. 'Why in the world did you follow us?'

Crescendo looks more like he has expected them coming.

'Well, you caught up with us sooner than I would have expected. I thought we would at least make it to Forte first.'

'What do you think you're doing?' Jazz cuts across as he dismounts. 'You'd just die in vain. Waltz is not that sympathetic.'

Both Crescendo and Serenade looks away, unhappily. The prince and princess of a country gone missing, everyone must be really worried.

'May not…' Serenade closes her eyes before meeting the party's gaze, looking determined. 'But if I were to speak to him, I believe he would spare the prince. Even if I sacrifice my own life in the process.'

_After all the things I've done, it is the very least I can do to make up for it._

'And then Waltz will invade,' Falsetto points out, 'after Baroque is thrown into chaos from the loss of its prince.'

Viola and Allegretto nod beside her.

'Anyone can see, that's going to happen.'

'If you abandon Baroque now, then…'

At this moment there are sounds of horseshoes approaching. Two horses are speeding in their direction. Judging from the sounds the riders must have pressing business.

Both men are wearing proper Baroque military uniform. Crescendo recognizes they are scouts sent out to keep an eye on Forte's border. They are very surprised to see their prince here, but nevertheless they dismount beside Crescendo and bow down. Everyone can tell from their expressions that what they are about to say is not going to be anything happy.

'Prince Crescendo, thank goodness you're here! Forte's army is on the move!'

_What! That fast?_

It is only a hundred or more kilometres from Mt. Rock to Forte. Subjects infected by mineral powder do not feel tired. If they march non-stop they can reach here in one day.

'How many?'

'Almost every Forte soldier and siege weapon are out, ten thousand improved test subjects at least. They'll be here by nightfall.'

Crescendo's heart misses a beat.

'… _ten thousand_?'

'We only have five hundred here!'

'We don't stand a chance!'

'That foul, evil Waltz! He's never wanted peace with us at the first place!'

Hopeless, disappointed, scared and furious, the soldiers are starting to clamour. Allegretto and Beat's fists are shaking under anger. Salsa is swearing at the top of her lung. The one that is most heart crushed and regretful is Serenade.

'… he's telling me… to die…?'

Her voice trembles as she speaks. Blinking back tears she looks at Crescendo.

'Is this what he means?'

'Princess Serenade,' Polka says, 'what's the matter? What're you talking about?'

From this point on Jazz has no more doubt on Serenade's true identity. Falsetto addresses to the entire group.

'Serenade is a spy from Forte, but… not anymore.'

The expected uproar on this news does not come however. Everyone understands Falsetto's meaning.

Yes – she is a sacrifice.

No matter how she keeps an eye on Baroque, it is still a thorn in Waltz's eyes. He has been longing to destroy Baroque, just as soon as he has the power to do so.

She is nothing more than a pawn, a dispensable pawn. Her mission is over. Her death is planned, right at the beginning. Crescendo's inside is burning with guilt. It is only fortunate that she has not reached Forte yet. His idea that his sacrifice may save Baroque cannot be more foolish and naïve.

For the time they are here talking, the super army of Forte has already come several ten metres nearer to them. All the civilians of Baroque have not been notified of their danger.

Jazz looks at Crescendo, who lowered his head and seems to be crushed, but then the depression in his eyes is quickly replaced by determination.

'… if Waltz chooses to abandon peace with Baroque,' Crescendo raises his head, 'then, we have no need to reason with him anymore!'

There is a sense of despair in his impassioned tone, which does not allow anyone to question or criticize. His whole fellow soldiers listen to him with halted breaths. Jazz gives Crescendo an approving smile. From this moment, he has finally and truly become the prince of his country.

'We must protect our homeland and people! We are going battle tonight!'

Hope begins to ignite in everyone's heart. The soldiers stand very straight listening to their princess's command.

'We are using the keep at the end of To Coda Ruins as our defence line!' Crescendo addresses to one of the scouts. 'I want you return to Baroque immediately and inform our people to make preparations for evacuation, just in case.'

'Yes, Prince Crescendo!'

'And you,' Crescendo says to the other scout, 'go to Woodblock Groves and inform the Andantino to assist us.'

Before the scout can answer Frederic has stepped forward.

'I'll go.'

'But Frederic,' Jazz says, 'you don't know where our base is.'

'I _will_ know, because this is my dream.'

Ignoring the puzzled looks of Jazz and Crescendo, Frederic mounts his horse.

'I'll get back by dawn.'

After casting magic on the horse it gallops off – several times faster than before, and soon their shadows vanish out of sight. Crescendo, Serenade and all the soldiers are stunned by the magical power Frederic has, but there is no more time to waste.

'Then it's all set! We're heading to the keep! Let's go!'

Long ago when Crescendo had not been born yet, there were a few years when Baroque and Forte were at the edge of a full scale war. Crescendo's grandfather, the king of Baroque at that time, on one hand tried by all means to solve the danger through diplomacy, while on the other hand he secretly built a keep at the foot of Mount Rock on the side of Forte.

The keep is nothing compared to a real castle, but still it consists of a main fort protected by a high strong wall. The only exits are the main gate and the backdoor to To Coda Ruins. In front of the keep is a vast open ground while the other three sides are very steep mountain cliffs. Enemies can only invade from the front, and this is without question an ideal spot for a stronghold.

Fortunately the expected war did not break out, and the keep was left unused. Apparently it is very old, but well-maintained and further reinforced by the Baroque government since then. All commonly used hand-held weapons like swords, arrows and shields are all ready. Crescendo and Jazz instruct the soldiers to bar the doors of the main gate and cover the battlements.

It is past midnight by the time everything is set. Posts are assigned for everyone. The only thing now that can do is to wait. If intelligence from the scouts is correct, Waltz's army will be here at any moment.

The sky is utterly dark, and the stillness of the heavy air foreboded storm. Crescendo stands on the commander tower while Falsetto takes position behind him to serve his body guard under Jazz's order. Jazz patrols on the battlement where Allegretto, Viola, Salsa and March stand among other Baroque archers. Serenade and Polka are kept inside the keep as Beat is assigned to protect them.

For a staring moment, the watchers on the wall see all the space between them and the ground lit with white light, boiling and crawling with black shapes, some squat and broad, some tall and grim, with high helms and sable shields. Thousands and thousands more are pouring over the ground and through the breach.

Suddenly the clouds are seared by a blinding flash. Branched lightning smite down upon the peak of Mount Rock. Thunder rolls in the fort, rain comes lashing down, but nobody yells for taking shelter. Everyone stands as still as statues.

They can feel it, the silence and tense in the air before battle.

Two figures stand out among their companions on top of a big rock. One of them raises something long and thin in its hand, the huge army stops at about a hundred metres before the wall. It is so dark that it is impossible to see its face, but from its clothing and gestures Jazz can already tell it is the lord of Forte, leader of this whole army, Count Waltz. The other one without doubt is his advisor Legato.

'May the prince of Baroque come forth!'

Crescendo does not leave the command tower. He raises his voice.

'I am the prince of Baroque, Crescendo. I express my regret that I cannot greet you at my castle.'

He knows that they come with hostility, so he does not bother saying anything dishonest like 'welcome to Baroque'. Waltz takes over the talking.

'That doesn't matter. It would have been terribly rude of me to make you come all the way to Forte. So I thought I'd come to meet you halfway. I can see you've brought along some… protection.' Waltz's eyesight sweeps past Falsetto, the Baroque soldiers and finally falls onto the leader of Andantino. 'Very wise.'

'Stop playing games, Waltz!' Jazz snaps. 'Look at how many people you've sacrificed to create that army behind you! Crescendo and Serenade were about to unconditionally surrender to you, thank goodness we found them before they reach you!'

'Count Waltz,' Crescendo says. 'All this time I know Serenade has been your spy to make sure Baroque made no move. What I want to say is even without her, I assure you I've never had the slightest thought of sending my soldiers into Forte.' He raises his hand gesturing at Waltz. 'Please, join hands with me. Let us walk forward together in peace. Continuing with this mutual animosity will benefit no one in the end.'

'Oh, is that so?' Waltz does not accept, nor does he reject. 'But any threat posed by Baroque is no longer a concern at all, and I have even less interest in you.'

A flush appears on Crescendo's face. Waltz continues.

'What I'm interested in right now, is that girl called Polka!'

'She's not here!' Jazz lies. 'What do you want with her?'

'If you turn that girl over to me, I can guarantee we will retreat the moment I have her, and of course, I promise to treat the young lady with… the utmost care and civility.'

'It is very important to us that this young lady remains in only the best of health,' Legato interrupts. 'We have no intention of making a prisoner of her. We will make sure she lives the rest of her life in comfort.'

If Waltz and Legato are alone this may be true, but the way their army lines up in front of the keep is no different from telling everyone that once they have Polka they are never not going to keep their promise. Jazz is two hundred percents sure that what Legato has said is exactly opposite to what awaits Polka – a lifelong imprisonment.

There is nothing more to talk about.

'Viola,' he says, 'fire a warning shot between Waltz and Legato.'

_That's just what I want to do._

'My pleasure.'

Even in darkness Viola's accuracy is still as sharp as in daylight, proving her a skilled hunter and sniper. Her arrow soars right past the heads of Waltz and Legato. The old advisor is scared out of his heart as he covers his head with both hands while Waltz does not even stir a bit, knowing that the arrow is never going to hit any of them.

However it knocks right into the throat of a berserker behind, whose neck is unprotected by any armour piece. It gives out a few chokes then falls flat onto the ground, apparently dead.

The berserkers begin to growl and slowly the entire army roars. Echoed by the mountains they sound like they are several times more than their actual number. Waltz flick his spear-sword to the keep.

'Attack!'

Just one word is enough. As the whole berserker army surge forward, the assault on the keep and the invasion to Baroque has officially begun.

'Prepare to fire!'

Following Jazz's command, the archers on the battlements draw arrows and knock them in union, but do not release immediately. Everyone is waiting for the next command. The most front line of the enemy is still far. The more they get closer, the higher the accuracy and the power the arrows will be.

All the berserkers are wearing full armour sets, but there are still weaknesses as at their necks and beneath their arms. Targeting these areas will be more effective.

'FIRE!'

Arrows thick as the rain come whistling over the battlements, and fall clinking and glancing on the ground. Most find their marks. All the berserkers are wearing proper battle suits protected by metal chest plates, but since the arrows are fired from the high ground that the gravity further enhances their speed. Even for those who do not get a direct hit on their necks, the arrows still manage to penetrate their armours and penetrate deep into their bodies, only to see they scream and stagger, and seconds later continue to charge as if they do not feel the pain. Obviously, mineral powder is doing its trick. Normally one arrow can take one man, but now it takes several.

Waltz's army charges like waves of an angry sea. None of them pay any attention to their dead comrades on the ground as those at the back step pass corpse after corpse. The fire line of the battlements cannot resist it. Without long the frontline has pushed to only twenty metres under the wall. Waving spear and sword, the berserkers shoot a cloud of arrows at any that stand revealed upon the battlements.

Allegretto, Salsa and March's weapons are for melee but not for ranged attack. Around them several Baroque archers have lost to the enemy's arrows and fall down below the battlements.

'My Solar Rings are waiting for you, come on!'

But Salsa does not have to wait for long when she hears Jazz shouts 'Ladders!' in warning. It takes great risk for archers to take down enemies directly under the wall as they have to reveal their upper bodies over the battlements, which makes them easy target. The berserkers take the chance and set up mechanism beneath, and long ladders are raised one after one onto the battlements.

'Everyone change to sword!'

Comparing to shooting enemies under the wall, the highest priority now is to stop them from gaining access on the battlements. Jazz immediately delivers another order to the archers, who hastily withdraw their bows for close ranged weapons. While the ladders are being raised, a number of berserkers have already attached themselves onto the ladders, and as they incline towards the battlements the ones at the top waste no time and jump down for attack. After taking mineral powder, their strength is now at a level beyond human. In just one sweep they manage to cut down as much as four Baroque soldiers. Viola is just about to release a full barrage of ten arrows when a berserker chooses her to be its next target, but Viola dodges its strike and Salsa comes after it.

'All right there, old lady?'

She has time to yell as she makes a swift summersault leap up and lands on its shoulders. Before it can shake her off she hooks a ring onto its neck and twists, instantly severing its spinal cord, but more are coming. There are numerous spots now uncovered by Baroque soldiers where berserkers flooding in.

'We'll stop them! Cover me, March!'

'Right!'

Salsa charges straight ahead towards the incoming wave of berserkers.

'Surrounding blast! _Deadly Circle_!'

It is almost like having six to seven rings simultaneously spread out around Salsa. Her Solar Rings have become a shade of orange, slashing and cutting through anything that gets close within their range. For each circle Salsa draws in midair, a leg is separated from its host straight away. Salsa's strength does not allow her to deal fatal hits to the berserkers, hence every part she aims at is joints or those that are not covered by armour plates. There are twelve cuts in _Deadly Circle_, and six berserkers can now only crawl with their hands on the ground.

The enemies are just in front of her eyes, so close that Viola does not even need to aim as she stands between two ladders. Just as two berserkers are about to climb up she quickly fires two arrows to each of them. One gets hit in the neck and the other gets hit through the throat, both died instantly as they drop backward back to the ground.

Ever and again the lightning tears aside the darkness. Allegretto deals a backhand strike to a berserker trying to cut his head into two halves from behind, then runs to the nearest ladder and give it a hard kick. The two legs of each ladder are supported by an axle fixed within a metallic base order to allow them to flip upward to tilt against the battlements. Being dealt a kick by Allegretto, the balance of the ladder is off and it falls down in a crash. Those berserkers at the bottom manage to duck away, while those hanging at the upper part bang hard against the rocky ground, killing several. In a few minutes, Waltz has lost over a hundred men, yet no sooner has one fallen than another steps into the breach. Clouded by their desire to kill, none of them cares about their fellow comrades.

There are several hundred thousand civilians in Forte, including Ritardando. Everyone knows that once Tocoda Ruins is breached, no one will be spared. War cries shake the sky and shatter the earth, arrows come and go in the air like locusts. As Jazz chops two enemies into four parts in one cut he catches a glimpse at the ramp leading to the main gates. Berserkers are marching upward, their great shields holding at the front and above them like a roof. All the arrows and rubbles thrown at them from above the gates are bounced away.

'Causeway! Shoot them!'

Archers around him hear his order and quickly switch targets. The shield fortress only covers the front and the top, those on both sides are completely open to attack. It is a long distance from the battlement to the ramp, but the berserkers are bound by their own formation that they cannot dodge the arrows. Those that get hit drop from the ramp down to the ground.

Waltz begins to get impatient at their situation. All his men are improved subjects already. What is taking them so long?

'What're you doing, you useless scum!'

'I'm… so sorry, Count Waltz,' Legato hastily apologizes, 'but their defence is better than we've thought.'

'Bring that wall down!'

_What? He can't be meaning…!_

'But… if we use them now, what about Baroque Castle?'

Waltz feels totally irritated with Legato's stupidity. Not to say Baroque Castle, there is no way to get to Baroque with this wall and keep in front of them!

'Just do it!'

'Ye… yes my lord!'

All Baroque soldiers on the battlement are occupied by the invading berserkers climbing up seemingly endlessly. No one pays the slightest attention on the open ground when four berserkers carry out what Legato has instructed them. They choose the middle section of the wall and put down two large, black spheres. Once the setup is done they swirl open the lids and retreat.

The content within is a newly developed, highly vigorous explosive powder.

Jazz has just sliced a berserker's head into two when his eyes catches a glimpse of a trail of hissing smoke – no, a berserker holding a torch with white blazing sparks – charging towards the wall ground below. He can almost feel his blood freeze.

'Bring it down, Viola!'

Viola looks at where Jazz points and immediately realizes the danger. She knocks an arrow and takes aim. The arrowhead is not made of metal but is blue in colour. That is a water arrow. Upon contact with the target, the arrowhead will break and release a shed of water.

'_Aqua Arrow_!'

The arrow travels not to the berserker but to the torch. In fact she could have shot the berserker instead, yet knowing that once it goes down others will pick up the torch and take its place she decides to put out the fire source. Her arrow shatters accurately on the torch, but to her horror the water evaporates before the fire can go out. That fire is not a normal one, and the enemies must have calculated what Viola has been thinking!

'Kill it! Hurry!'

Viola is as desperate as Jazz. Now that water is useless, the only way left now is to cut off the fire's air supply. Viola knocks a different arrow and fire again.

'_Gas Arrow_!'

The most ideal insulate will be carbon dioxide. What this arrow holds is a packet of knock-out gas that originally is for knocking out opponents at a distant, but at this situation there is no time to care about this. The effect is instant. The berserker staggers as soon as the yellow gas clouds around it. The fire goes dim at the moment the gas is released, but does not go out completely. Viola and Jazz watches with their breaths held, seeing that a few more seconds later it will lose conscious and falls.

Only to hear it gives out its last howl and, in a kamikaze manner, kicks off from the ground diving for the explosive devices.

'JUMP!'

It is as if a huge earthquake happened in the mountain. A whole portion of the wall is blasted apart. Soldiers on the battlement are blown away by the shockwave to the ground, either suffering heavy injury or dead. Since the explosion is set outside the wall, most of the rubbles fly to the sky and shower down inward to the fort, each crumble several soldiers as they land like burning meteors. Nearby only Viola and Jazz manage to leap off at the last second to narrowly avoid them. A fort wall that can fence off an army is crushed with that ease, everyone, especially Crescendo, watches the sudden turn of tile in utmost shock.

But he has no time to think more as berserkers begin to breach the wall, because the team of berserkers on the causeway has almost reached the main gate. Beneath that roof of shields, something is pushing its way through while those standing at both outmost lines are forced away from the causeway edge. When it reveals itself at the front, it turns out to be a battering ram carried by six berserkers.

'Brace the gate!'

The gate doors are already further reinforced by timbers, but alone it will not stand long. Soldiers quickly press themselves against the gate. The collision is so strong that it shocks them away, but as soon as they regain balance they immediately push onto the gate again. On one hand they are help countering the impact by acting an opposite force to the ram, but on the other hand they are using their bodies to absorb the shock.

'Hold them, stand firm!'

Facing two pressing threats, all Crescendo can do now is to encourage his men not to give up. Waltz and Legato are standing in front of the blast-opened breach. Behind them berserkers are rushing past them as they enter the fort ground, sniffing for their next victim like beasts.

'Enter the fort! Kill everyone on your way!'

'Not if I am still drawing breath! _Dimensional Cut_!'

Jazz horizontally cuts through the air at his front, in a speed naked eyes cannot catch up. A broad vacuum blade is sent out. In the past Fugue also has a similar move _J'accuse_, but it cannot be made successful without the reduced weight from his katana. In order to create a vacuum blade, speed is the crucial element. Jazz's broadsword is heavier than any other hand-held weapon, and his able to use this same move is all thanks to his long term muscle training on his arms.

Fugue was once Waltz's man, so naturally Waltz knows every unique move of his, and how to counter all of them. As soon as he sees Jazz's stance he knows what Jazz is planning to do. Waltz takes out his spear-sword and with a vertical slash, the vacuum blade is separated into two, but his slash does not manage to completely counter Jazz's devastating power. The vigour of the now halved but doubled vacuum blades does not even seem to be lowered at all as they soar right past Waltz's sides, cutting everything in their ways into two. The blades stop only when they dissolve into air more than a hundred metres away, and with only one move, Jazz alone has killed about two hundred berserkers.

'You'll never reach Baroque and Ritardando!'

'Legato, you go ahead! Find the girl and complete _it_!' Waltz walks slowly towards Jazz. 'Now that you're here, I'll play with you for a little amusement!'

At this moment, both Jazz and Waltz realize that the time has come at last.

The hideout of the Andantino is located near Forte territory, but now that the way from Mount Rock to Forte is blocked by Waltz's army Frederic has to take the long way – back to Baroque, over Sharp Mountain to Agogo Forest, then through Chorus Plain and Hannon Hills. Cabasa Bridge has not been mended by the Forte government ever since Tuba crushed it into two. With a flick from his wand the two broken halves of the bridge floated up and united as one in the middle, as new as it has just been built.

Normally this journey will take at least two weeks on foot, but under the effect of his spell his horse never feels exhausted running nonstop. It only has taken him around half a day when he has arrived at Adagio Swamp at midnight.

_Hope I can make it._

Recalling the time when he decided to set out with Polka in Agogo Forest, there was nothing he felt like caring about apart from her welfare. In his journey Polka has always been his first priority compared with the others. Waltz's invasion on Baroque can endanger her safety, and that is why he is helping out.

_But is it really just for her?_

Or is it because he does not want any war in his dream, like what he experienced in the real world?

Or rather, Allegretto, Beat, Viola, Salsa, March, Jazz, Falsetto, Crescendo, Serenade, have all become more than just imaginary characters in his mind?

He can feel that he is near the end of his journey. He has to answer his own doubt about this world very soon. Yet, his final decision is shrouded in darkness, no matter how hard he looks, he cannot see it at all.

The Woodblock Groves look even deadlier than usual during night time. The fungi do not give out light like Heaven Mirrors in the Heaven Mirrors Forest, and they constantly release poisonous spores into the air, but still this level of obstacle proves nothing to the master of this dream, as Frederic casts a spell on him and the horse so that the air around them can be purified before breathing in. He constantly checks his direction with his wand. Though not sure the exact location of Andantino he knows he is on the right track.

Then he sees it – a hole in the mountain near a waterfall. It leads him to a dead end.

_This is it._

He points his wand at it and says 'Open up.'

The rain has stopped. The sky is clearing.

The battle has lasted for five hours. Everyone cannot help but feel powerless at their situation. Basically, they are pushed against the dead-end.

Berserkers are flooding in that Viola is forced to fight close-ranged with her bow. Salsa and March are panting. There are cracks on Allegretto's sword tip. The only thing that prevents them from falling is their determination.

'Jazz!' Crescendo calls from the commander tower. 'Fall back to the keep! Get your men out of there!'

Waltz's attacks are so fierce that there is no way he can pull himself out, not to say the leader of Andantino will never run away from Waltz. Nearby, Viola is the closest to his position, and she is the most reliable ally at this point.

'Viola! Into the keep! Tell Allegretto and the twins as well!'

'But you'll die if you stay here!'

No matter how strong Jazz is, how can one man stand against hundreds of berserkers and Waltz?

'Baroque is more important!'

Yes. Baroque is the true last defence line against Forte. Once it is lost tens of thousands will be in pain and suffer. They must protect it at all cost.

She has never heard Jazz talking in such unyielding and desperate manner. There is even anxiety in his voice.

'Don't forget our purpose here! So go, Viola! Hurry! It depends on you all now!'

_Continue to fight, even though I may die._

'Right!'

It is truly amazing that Waltz is able to fight evenly against the leader of Andantino despite being only sixteen years old. Born into the royal family Waltz has received the most superior training from the best trainers in Forte. Though Jazz's broadsword can deliver large damage, the drawback is its weight is also astonishingly high. On the contrary Waltz's sword is long, thin, light and speedy, like a spear, and it constantly aims at the gaps between Jazz's attacks for deadly jabs.

'You're such an annoying bastard! What on earth could have possessed you people to come all this way?'

'There's no escape for you, Waltz! You're going to pay for your sins!'

Everything started all because of this person. The anger inside Jazz is rising.

Waltz takes flight and deals an airborne backhand slash. Jazz quickly leaps backward allowing the sword tip to pass just before his face. Once Waltz's feet are on the ground he pounces for another round of attack.

'You're one who shouldn't even exist!'

'Nonsense!'

His howl has opened a temporary hole in his defence. Waltz seizes the chance and delivers one of his finishing moves.

'Get down on your knees before the sword of the king! _Volcano Concussio_!'

In Jazz's eyes it is like having three or four sword tips simultaneously jabbing towards him. There is no time for him to think that he can only act on reflex action by holding his broadsword vertically in front of him, only to hear a series of rapid sounds of metal colliding, and there is not even a scratch on his clothes. It turns out that this move of Waltz's targets the enemy's forehead, chest and abdomen, but Jazz's broadsword is longer and broader than usual swords that it managed to cover all his three targeted body parts.

… _Tut!_

Waltz curses in his heart as he pulls back.

'If everyone rebels just the way you do, there will never be peace in the world!'

'That's…!'

Jazz deals a back _Whirlwind_ to crumble some berserkers coming up from his back. Waltz changes to target his arms and legs.

' – therefore, your existence should never be allowed!'

'Viola, where's Jazz?'

Allegretto asks as he and the Agogo Forest twins run along with other soldiers up the pathway to the keep.

'He's fighting Waltz. He knows what he's doing. Come on!'

The last soldier slams the blockade behind him. There are several entries to the keep either from the battlement or the inner ground behind the great wall. There are blockades like this along every section in case the enemy army breaks through, but their defensive ability is no match of the main gate. They can only temporarily block the berserkers by slowing them, but cannot resist them forever.

As they are looking for Crescendo for instructions they hear a lot of shouting seemingly coming from the main gate. On top of the command tower Crescendo is nowhere to be found.

'Hey, what's going on? Where's Crescendo?' Viola stops a nearby soldier and asks.

'They've made a hole in the gate! The Prince is there himself!'

If Frederic was here he could tell them that Crescendo is more than capable of taking care of himself in a fight. Allegretto cannot help but feel anxious. At a time like this their hope is hung by a thread, and the prince is the soul of his entire army.

'Let's go help him!'

Allegretto is right. Even their sacrifice is huge, they have to defend this keep.

'Then I'll go up.' Viola says as she quickly adjusts the tension in her bow. 'Jazz needs my help.'

There should be spots overlooking the entire keep ground somewhere up. She is not able to fight Waltz like Jazz does, but at least she can provide him so cover against the berserkers around him.

Allegretto, Salsa and March swiftly turn around, feeling the responsibility on their shoulders.

'Then see you later, I promise!'

'Alright! It's a promise!'

After the short exchange of blessing, the three speed to the main gate. The internal structure of the keep is not very complicated, and it only takes them a few minutes to find it. Among all the pushing and shouting they see that the enemies have made a large hole on the right gate door, and both sides are having a fierce competition over it. A berserker has plugged its hand through and is grabbing on a soldier's neck when Falsetto activates her elbow blade and makes a clean slice on its forearm. All the reinforcement timbers on the gate are broken in the middle. Crescendo is standing out of the entrance passage monitoring, his left hand clutching his right shoulder, which is bleeding. The fresh black taints on his diamond mace indicate that he has injured or killed some berserkers just then.

Allegretto, Salsa and March join Falsetto.

'The gate can't hold them anymore! We have to get outside and fight!'

'Leave it to us! March?'

'I am ready, sis!'

'Then let's send them fly!'

Like a cannonball Salsa dives through the hole out of the gate. The berserker nearest does not even have time to figure what she is when its head flies. March follows closely afterward.

'The mother of darkness shall entwine you in her tresses! _Midnight Cloud_!'

The Lunar Rings become like a blue slicer. Salsa also unleashes _Deadly Circle_ once again beside her. Their combination cannot be described as anything other than flawless. So disorderly and unpredictable their attacks are that the berserkers are being kept pushing back, but both of them never receive a blow from each other. Born as twins with countless practices, they already know each other's habits and rhythms by heart. The four rings and two Agogo guardians fuse as one body.

'I'll head out too, Falsetto!'

'Okay!'

Falsetto pulls open the gate for a space just wide enough for Allegretto. Everyone is doing their best, he also has to do better.

'With the blade in the night come the wings of death! _Bloody Plume_!'

Allegretto deals eight diagonal slashes, alternating between left and right. Light attacks are no use against the berserkers' armours, so Allegretto wields his sword in full strength. Black blood splashes exactly like falling feathers. Within half a second eight berserkers have their heads or limbs torn off, but behind them more are stepping over their dead comrades advancing forward. Even this out-numbered, they can only keep fighting.

'Damn it…!'

This takes them virtually to nowhere. _Bloody Plume_ takes away too much agility that he can barely dodge the enemies' attacks. At this moment, something dark has whooshed in front of his eyes, only to see Salsa brushes it away just in time with her Solar Rings. Turns out it was an arrow – those berserkers below are trying to knock them off the causeway.

'Watch out from below!'

'Arrows! If only the old lady could be here…!'

The situation for Viola is no better.

Down on the keep ground Legato and the berserkers are already halfway up, ramming down every blockade in their way. Baroque soldiers are trying all their best to stop them. Viola keeps releasing fire arrows, eliminating groups and groups of berserkers around Jazz, but her alone can do little to turn their tide. Even with Viola's help, Jazz does not find his fight any easier. He knows any moment he loses concentration on Waltz he may as well as get killed, but the berserkers are keeping distracting him. _Whirlwind_ and _Dimensional Cut_ can clear tens of berserkers in just one blow, but both cannot turn over his disadvantage in number. Baroque soldiers are falling one after one under such one-sided attack, yet still they stand firm on their defence line.

'This doesn't look good, Prince Crescendo!'

Falsetto reports to Crescendo. During just this moment another tens of lives have lost. These are all his good men fighting for him and his country. His inside burns with guilt. If only he had realized Waltz's true nature earlier, if only he had not avoided him…

'… Tell everybody back.'

Falsetto cannot help but gasp hearing this. Noticing her gazing, Crescendo cannot find himself meeting those emerald eyes.

'Tell them to gather inside – we'll abandon the outer castle!'

'Waltz is invading Baroque?'

The news about Waltz and his army leaving Forte for Baroque has reached the Andantino hideout. The vice-leader and several top members are having an emergency meeting in the conference room. Said to be a room, this is actually a section of the underground cave system, with one side open facing the waterfall stream from above the ground.

'What about Jazz and Falsetto? What's the latest situation of Baroque?'

'It seems Baroque is still safe, but we've no news from them.'

With Waltz and his entire army gone this is a good time to strike the Forte government, but what about Baroque and Jazz? They still haven't heard anything from Falsetto yet. This is the time that they need their leader and his lieutenant most. The two of them being absent makes it extremely difficult to decide wisely on what the Andantino should do.

'Sir,' a guard reports outside, 'we have a stranger at the entrance.'

The atmosphere in the room tenses up.

_Someone has found our hideout?_

'A spy from Forte? What does he look like?'

'Well... he doesn't look like a spy to me, but he somehow found the entrance and opened the gate himself. He said he has urgent matters.'

This report quickly starts a wave of murmuring among the members.

'What? He opened it himself?'

'How can that be? It's always locked from the inside.'

'What does he want anyway?'

The vice-leader thinks for a while.

'He's just one man?'

'It seems so, sir.'

'Bring him in.'

'Understood.'

Without long two Andantino guards have brought their unexpected guest into the conference room. The vice-leader studies him very carefully.

'You're no soldier.'

All the way the stranger being escorted here he has been thinking about how to convince the Andantinos to believe his story. This seemingly irrelevant statement is not what he has expected.

'Excuse me?'

'Your hands. Being a long time in the Andantino I can tell. You have not wielded a sword before, but you have a pair of good eyes. Determination, courage and a strong heart I can see.'

The vice-leader sits a little more straight, leaning forward.

'Now, tell me what you know.'

'I have travelled from Mount Rock representing Jazz and Falsetto.'

_Jazz and Falsetto? They're at Mount Rock?_

_Better to be more careful first._

'Why should we trust you?'

'Some time ago you had two guests, a young man who use a violin-sword and a young lady who is excel at archery. Falsetto brought them here. Am I correct?'

He has learnt these from Allegretto back in Ritardando. If it had not been that the rescuing mission of retrieving Salsa was a secret mission limited only to Falsetto and Claves, it would be a much more convincing piece of evidence. He goes on.

'Pardon me, but time is running short. Waltz is attacking Baroque with his new berserker army. Jazz and Falsetto are going to fight alongside Prince Crescendo and Baroque but they are greatly outnumbered. They need your immediate help.'

This matches the news the Andantino have just learnt, but there is still something suspicious.

'Mount Rock is hundreds of kilometres from here. How could you come here?'

The stranger takes out a long thin stick that resembles a baton used by conductors. He points it at the waterfall and the water soars to him, forming a perfect orb floating in midair at his front.

All Andantino members know about the side-effects of taking mineral powder and never discriminate those who can use magic. They only look surprised, but not shocked or terrified. That explains how he managed to travel to here in such a short time as well as open the hidden gate. The vice-leader asks again, now almost certain that what this stranger says is true.

'Did you say Prince Crescendo is at Mount Rock himself?'

'Yes, he had wanted to surrender unconditionally to Waltz to save Baroque. We caught up with them just in time when we heard Waltz and his army was on their way to Baroque. Crescendo has decided to fight but he has too few men.'

'How many?'

'Five hundred, against ten thousand.'

All the Andantino members bolt up, looking thoroughly shocked.

'That's suicide!'

'There's no way they are going to win!'

The vice-leader presses them down. Jazz and Crescendo are very likely engaging Waltz at the moment.

'Tell all members to get ready for battle immediately! We have to help Jazz and Prince Crescendo!'

Feeling an immense gratitude to the stranger he walks to him as the other Andantinos rushed out of the room.

'It is difficult to ask such a thing of one not from the Andantino, but... I beseech you. Please help us bring back our leaders.'

The vice-leader would much prefer handling this matter in his own hand, only that this time the enemy is way too outnumbering theirs. Struggling against Forte for so long, the chance of the Andantino overthrowing Waltz has actually come. If anything happens to Jazz the Forte government is going to crush the Andantino forever for sure. And now, the power that may protect Jazz, the power to turn the tide of the battle, the power to save all the Baroque citizens is in front of him...

'I too have something I must protect.'

_Polka..._

The vice-leader is overjoyed.

'So you're coming with us?'

'Yes, but we have to hurry. I'll multiply my horse for all your men. Meet me outside.'

'Right!'

All is ready. Full of determination, Frederic leads the 3,000 Andantinos to the east.

_Just hold on a little more, Jazz._

The sky is shaded in a colour of grey dawn.

Legato frantically searches around the castle.

Agogos only glow whenever that girl is nearby, then reversibly, when it starts to glow it indicates he is close to her.

The agogo in his hand suddenly gives out one of the purest white light he has ever seen. He finds himself front of a locked door on the top level.

'The girl's inside! I want this door completely open!'

Legato slips the glowing agogo into a purple jar as the berserkers bring up the ram. The effect is immediate – it gives out a putrid purple smoke.

_It's done! It's just as you surmised, my lord!_

_Yes! By completing the most powerful perfect mineral powder, my usefulness can be proved._

The sound of the door being rammed hammers everyone's eardrums. Between them and all those berserkers outside, this door is their final defence, and now they are already pushed against the dead-end. Anxiousness is seen on all of their faces.

'Everyone…' Crescendo says to the party. '… this is it. You must leave and get out of here.'

'Get out?' Allegretto repeats. Right from the beginning they have never have thought about chickening out.

The enemies are building up outside, but even including all the wounded soldiers Polka has healed they only have a little more than a hundred men left. Serenade also tries to persuade them to leave. Allegretto, Polka, Beat, Viola, Salsa, March and Falsetto are not Baroque citizens. She and Crescendo have no right to drag them to die with them.

'But if you stay you'll just die in vain…'

'If we had wanted to go,' Polka says, 'then we would have run away long ago.' Beat, Salsa and March nod at her words.

Falsetto shows her strong will and confidence.

'We all choose to stay and help on our own. Sometimes, something has to be protected even if we sacrifice.'

A flow of warmth surges in Crescendo and Serenade's heart.

They have thought they are fighting a losing battle, but it is different now.

There are of course many countries other than Baroque and Forte in this world. More are bound to discover Waltz's madness and aggression. Then perhaps, someday… they will also follow Baroque's example and stop Waltz.

The door is kept being rammed, like there is no end to it. Unlike the main gate it is not designed to withstand such level of impact. Its middle begins to split inward – the berserkers will break in any moment. Falsetto has her blades and claws ready, facing the door, so does everyone.

'Jazz has still not given up. I'm not going to say goodbye just yet…'

_If we're to die, then we'll die together!_

Feeling the courage coursing through him, Crescendo also raises his mace.

'You're right!'

However, they all know perfectly well, that no one is going to be alive once the berserkers break in. This is not feeling despair, but the fact. After they are all massacred, the berserkers are going to do the same to every Baroque citizen.

If only they can just kill as many as they can…

All the time they have come this far flashes in their mind. It is almost like a wonderful dream they all have met and are here. Such a stunningly beautiful world they live in, but in a few moments they will have to depart.

The door finally collapses. Standing in the doorway Legato commands in a victorious manner.

'Spare only the girl! Kill the spares...'

At this moment –

A majestic neigh outside echoes within the mountain, seemingly drowning all the battle cries of the thousands of berserkers. Distracted, everyone turns to where the sound comes from.

The sand and dust on the slope of the mountain on the east side are stirring, being forced unceasingly to the two sides. A huge army is bolting down the slope, the way a ship plowing the angry waves. The leading rider is wearing long coat and a top hat, while the cavalries following are seen wielding different weapons.

Like an angel leading a divine army from Heaven, the long-awaited reinforcement of Frederic and the Andantinos has finally arrived.

The berserkers nearest to the mountain foot hurried forward to prepare to engage. The first few rows kneel down, their spears pointing towards the front. If Frederic and the Andantinos keep on charging forward the spears will pierce through them.

The sun rises.

The first ray of dawn strokes the ground. All shadows take flight. Frederic raises his wand arm. A scarlet magic circle extends under his feet in midair.

'Rise up and shine bright, the morning light has now come! _Crimson Blaze_!'

Fire pillars erupt from the ground, not several but over hundreds. The first few rows of berserkers are surrounded by fire. Though red in colour, the temperature of the pillars is even higher than purple flames. In that instant, their shields and spears evaporate, their iron armours melt and are covered with small, boiling bubbles. The berserkers can see nothing but fire. Unable to withstand the flames licking their bodies they scream and twist in agony, and soon they are burnt to ashes alive.

As if enveloped by the blessing from the Sun God, the Andantinos follow Frederic break through the enemy's array. The fire is lethal and blazing hot to the berserkers, yet it has no effect on the magician and his allies. Frederic directs his wand to the centre of the enemy's formation. Within seconds another hundreds of berserkers are ablaze.

'This is the end of you, Waltz!'

The sudden turn of tide is out of everyone's expectation, including Jazz and Waltz. The different is one feels triumphal, one on the contrary is deeply aggrieved.

'You've lost! Surrender and go back to Forte!'

'Surrender? To whom do you think you're talking to?'

Waltz stabs with his spear-sword but his right arm is blocked by Jazz, who can tell that the young Count knows he is speaking the truth. Jazz has already left him a choice to retreat instead of dying here. It is no good pushing Waltz against the dead end. Who knows what he will do when his life is hung on a thread?

'With the way you try to influence people, you're really not so different from us. You knew you needed power to defeat me, so in order to achieve your goal, you betrayed your own country to Baroque, traitor!'

'You're wrong!' Jazz shakes his head. 'I'm nothing like you!'

The wind coming from each strike of his broadsword is enough to blow away a man, only to see Waltz still manages to hold his ground.

'Then what's our difference? Why are we different?' Waltz asks maliciously. 'Let's dispense with all the grandstanding! Be honest with yourself, fearless leader of Andantino, you only want revenge!'

His sword tip makes a deep cut on Jazz's right thigh.

'Ergh… you're wrong!'

'Why am I wrong? The only thing you're seeking here is retribution, payback for your friends who died in that rebellion. If there's a difference between us, it's the self-righteous sense of justice you have. Actually you're a lot worse than I am!'

Numerous scenes flash in Jazz's mind.

He can no longer remember how many conflicts he had with Forte. Both sides had lost a lot of lives. The more comrades died, the more determined he became to overthrow the Forte government. Those who died under his broadsword were far beyond counting.

The many lives he has obliterated…

They have created new hatred, allowing it to cycle and amplify.

Claiming to fight for justice, and then unscrupulously doing so afterward. Is this really his true-self?

Waltz's words continue to sledge Jazz's heart.

'You Andantino always say my powder is bad, but it heals illness does it not? Admit it! I've never forced my people to take it. The only reason they choose it because they want it!

'They keep using the mineral powder because they don't know about the side effects, and they're forced to buy it because all other medicines are highly taxed! You know it!'

'Haven't you ever heard that ignorant is a sin? We never once said an anything about the mineral powder is harmless, did we?'

Punishment will never be forgiven simply because of man's unknowingness. Pretending they do not know anything, shirking their responsibility and shifting the blame onto others – dying of ignorant is exactly the result of turning a deaf ear to what people should have known.

_Why haven't I stopped this before it's too late?_

As a result the world is on its path to destruction, ruled by those who desire power and those who seek nothing to gain have no intention to do anything. Waltz is culpable for sure, but Jazz also has to share the blame.

'And that's why Andantino is formed in the first place to stop your insanity! The only thing you wanted was to build an army of super soldiers. You take and take just to satisfy your own greed!'

Feeling the strength from his words, Jazz wields his broadsword in full strength and extent. A gash is made on Waltz's cuirass, but it seems not deep enough to cause him any external injury.

'Ha! Since humans have started walking on this planet, who doesn't want to have the power to control? A child wants power over his friends, a mother wants power to exercise over her kids, a father wants power within his family, a king naturally thirsts for power to expand his territory so that the whole world bow down before him! Only then will I feel truly alive!'

Jazz feels Waltz's spear-sword brushes past the left side of his waist.

'Ridiculous! How can that possibly make you feel more alive?'

'When you die you disappear, and eventually you're forgotten. Nothing of you remains. Humans are so unfeeling that way! That's why we must have power, enough to carve our existence into the very fabric of this world!'

'So that's it? That's what this is all about? Pathetic!'

Walt's eyes narrow dangerously.

'What?'

'The thing you want most out of life is something you can only get after you're already dead. If you just live a normal and caring life, as a count you're bound to be remembered by somebody!'

'Fool! I don't care about fleeting memories. What I want is to be adored and admired for eternity! Just a trifle, really!'

Jazz feels truly regret that he has wasted so much time trying to argue with Waltz.

'Nothing! Absolutely nothing lasts forever! That's why for the short time we're here, we have to try to make things a little better! You're just wrapped up in your own ego! You and that distortion of yours, I'm going to strike through them!'

Waltz is positively shocked to see Jazz's eyes turn blood-red and his face becomes deep lilac. The great weight of the broadsword is suddenly like feather to him as he wields it in one hand, each slash seemingly driving wind that can match that of a hurricane. The force is so overwhelming that Waltz can do nothing but fall back, completely shrouded in the shadows of the broadsword. This is a power he has never even dreamt of. He cannot believe that a man can possibly possess such strength, especially one without using mineral powder.

The spear-sword and the broadsword intersect – a match between a child and a giant. The broadsword cuts through the spear-sword as if the latter is made of butter, and swings down upon Waltz's head.

Waltz reflectively dives right, but that does not manage to stop the merciless broadsword from running down his right shoulder to his waist.

_...!_

Shocked and furious, Waltz tries to glue his broken pride back together as he bites his lips trying to maintain conscious.

_No!_

_The winner has to be me!_

He takes a quick glance around. The berserkers outside the keep seem to be all lost. Once the Andantinos join Jazz he will never have the chance to kill him. The only chance is now. He can feel his eyesight losing focus, but at least – at least if he can just watch Jazz dies before he does...

'KILL HIM!'

The berserkers nearby all pounce at Jazz. Their blades sink into his arms, chest, back and legs, some even jump onto him, biting him and trying to drag him down, but all that cannot stop him. He accelerates as he charges like gale, then stabs the broadsword straight and stiff into Waltz's heart…

'Damn you all...!'

The last few berserkers gone with the fire, Legato finds himself alone facing the party which includes Crescendo and Serenade.

'Looks like you are the only one left now, old man.' Allegretto says.

'How dare you talk to me in such manner, you brat!'

Everyone can tell his voice trembling as he tries to put up a strong tone. Allegretto is about to yell back when Crescendo places his hand on his shoulder.

'I have no intention in taking you as refugee or demanding Forte for anything. Please, Legato, stop now and return to Forte.'

'This is not the end! Wait until Count Waltz...'

'... hear about this?'

Legato abruptly turns around to see the fearsome magician and the Andantinos have surrounded him behind, but he is most thunderstruck when he finds Jazz is among them.

'No... no! It can' be...! Don't tell me the Count is...!'

'Enough blood has been spilled tonight, Legato! The Andantino has no interest in taking over Forte. Go back to Forte, release all our brothers and stop mining mineral powder!'

Legato knows there is no escape now. Even if he goes back to Forte there is no place for him anymore. Waltz has not been ruling Forte with kindness and he supports him only for securing his status. The new government may impeach him and Waltz for their war crime and sentence him to death.

Numerous ideas run through his mind, but none of them can help him out of this situation.

_What do I do? What should I do?_

His eyesight falls onto the jar in his hand. The thick purple smoke coming out looks very poisonous, but this is all he has left now.

'Grrrrrr! I guess I have no choice then!'

Holding his breath and shutting his eyes very tight, Legato begins to gulp down the content. No one has ever tested its effect yet, and no one can tell whether it is fatal. The party watches with a dubious look, not sure what effect it is going to have on Legato.

It all happens suddenly. Legato's inside begins to writhe as though he has swallowed every poison in the world at one time. A burning sensation spread from his stomach to every part of his body. He feels a horrible melting feeling as the skin all over his body boils and emits purple vapour. His limbs being to grow and thicken, the nails extend and harden. His chest expands and his shoulders stretch. The terrible pain makes him twitches and screams, each one sounds less human than before. Following the last and thunderous roar, the outline of something huge can be figured out among the thick smoke.

'What the?' Beat shies back in fear. 'Wha... what's that thing?'

The only thing that can be sure is that it is definitely not human. The width of its two front legs can be compared to tree trunks. Extending from its two arms are ten oversize talons. Its head is at least fifteen meters from the ground. The fiery gaze of four scarlet lights sweeps over the party below its feet.

The creature let out a massive roar that shakes the earth. Everyone falls to their feet, their eyesight turn black...


	7. Chapter 7 Heroic

CHAPTER VII

HEROIC

'…'

_What happened?_

Allegretto feels the dry stony ground beneath, telling him he is not in his Ritardando hideout.

_Ah yes – he recalls as his consciousness starts to come back – last night he fought against Waltz's berserker army with the others. Then that old man Legato drank that whatever it was and…_

He becomes fully awake now. He is still on the top floor of the keep. That thunderous roar of Legato had probably knocked him down, but the sound of morning breeze over his ears tells him that his hearing is still with him. This calms him quite a lot. He sits up, picking up his sword besides him as he gets back to his feet.

'Hey, is everybody okay?'

From the corner of his eye he can see Jazz, Falsetto, Frédéric and a few Andantinos are already up. The way it looks they have regained consciousness not too long.

But something at his front quickly grasps his attention.

'What's that?'

Ahead of them, a purple vortex is hanging in midair, exactly where they last saw Legato, or rather, that monster. The darkness in its centre is twirling like a hurricane. Fierce electric sparks are giving out from within.

Slowly the others are awake.

'What the heck is this weird black stuff?'

Salsa attempts to get a closer look, but Frédéric calls her back.

'It's a distortion of space, a twist of dimension and time.'

'I don't understand.' Viola says.

'That roar of Legato must have torn open this hole. It now leads to another world, parallel to ours.' Frédéric explains. 'Like the two sides of paper, coexist, but never come into contact with each other.'

Everyone cannot help but gaze into the centre of that dark storm, seemingly trying to suck in anything nearby. The idea that there is another unknown world behind it is somewhat eerie.

'Whatever it is,' Jazz says, 'now that Legato has that incredible power, this isn't just between nations anymore. It's gone beyond war. He could bring about the destruction of the entire world.'

'We must stop it.' Allegretto says. 'That monster is somewhere behind this hole, is that it?'

'Let's follow it then.' Viola agrees.

'I'm going too.' Polka says.

Jazz puts his broadsword back on his back.

'Let's go, Falsetto. Our mission is not over yet. We Andantino have vowed…'

'… to make a world where everybody can live happily. I haven't forgotten that.'

Beat looks wildly excited.

'So we're going to be heroes saving the whole world? I at least want us to have something to remember it all by!'

He shows his camera to Allegretto, who, to his surprise, gives him a nod.

Who knows this is going to be their last battle or not? If so, the best idea is to let Beat do whatever he wants, as long as he is happy with it.

'If you're taking pictures,' Salsa says, 'ya better not miss any of the amazing stuff I'm gonna do!'

'I'd also like to help any way that I can.' March says.

Even Crescendo and Serenade want to join. The Andantinos naturally vow to follow wherever Jazz and Falsetto go, who do not think this is a good idea. Waltz and his ruling are over, so should Andantino. They should go home and enjoy their new lives, not to mention the citizens of Baroque need their prince. Jazz and Falsetto try to make it sound like they can handle Legato themselves without problem, but everyone can tell they just do not want another person to sacrifice. Reluctantly, Crescendo and the Andantinos agree to stay.

Frédéric also makes up his mind.

_They may not be as strong as us, but they all have the strength of will to face any challenge and never back down from hardship._

_Perhaps the time has finally come, for them to truly make this world their own._

_I must see this through to the very end. That's the only way I can be sure the path I choose will be the right one._

'All right. Let's go!'

With a flick of his wand everyone's strength is restored. Crescendo, Serenade and the Andantinos watch the nine of them brace themselves and disappear behind the vortex.

_Good luck._

This is a dimension belongs to neither the living nor the dead.

Time is meaningless here. The river of time does not flow. The stagnant wind alters the landscape shaped by deserts. The sky is always at sunset yellow. The red sun never falls.

The sole oasis in this endless sea of coarse sand, is a small town. Transparent, glowing spheres of pink and blue are walking (or rather, floating) in the streets. Apart from this, it is a rather peaceful town.

Peaceful, yet full of sadness, solitariness and loneliness.

All the spheres are thinking about one thing.

_If only I had known that mineral powder is fatal earlier, I would not have taken it in the first place._

People only know regretting after mistakes are made, people only learn through mistakes. Unfortunately not all mistakes can be amended. Between the slow-effect but mild floral powder, and the fast-effect but fierce mineral powder, they all chose the latter one. And now they pay for their mistake here in Elegy, the Moon City, forever. They cannot go to Heaven or Hell, but they cannot be reborn either.

Suddenly, something black, something enormous, descends from the sky…

'This is…'

Polka cannot speak anymore. Viola is frozen on the spot, staring at what lies in front of them.

Hell – it probably looks like this.

No one has seen such raging fire, so vast that it can cover an entire city. Beautiful buildings are burning and collapsing. Above the dancing fire the charcoal-black smoke has covered the sky. The whole city has become a corpse bleeding in black blood. An enormous shadow is stepping over that fire of sea.

Allegretto has never been shaking this fiercely.

'How come…!'

Destruction. This is totally meaningless mass destruction, to the degree that the party wonders how such being can do this. If they had not stopped Waltz and his army, Baroque and Ritardando could have suffered the same fate as this city.

– _This must be stopped!_

They are all prepared for what is coming. There is no need for discussion or talking.

After taking the super mineral powder, the last sanity of Legato has completely been stripped off. His sides are full of fire and debris. Looking down from above, those spheres in the streets are like flocks of oozing bugs running for their dear lives, looking exceptionally disgusting.

Without a physical body with only the soul remains, the dead citizens are not the opponents of Legato, which roars as it gathers energy in its body and explodes outward, instantly resulting in a huge shockwave expanding in radiation form, sweeping away the soul spheres around.

_Hiss… hiss…!_

Giving in to its instinct to kill, Legato eliminates everything that moves near its feet. The shockwave also engulfed the buildings far to the city's rim. Purgatory flame again is breathed onto the ground. The vigorous explosion vaporises the entire market area. The fire sea stretches without ceasing, and that colour further fans Legato up. Some soul spheres which have been taking shelter among the fallen buildings attempt to sneak their way among the pillars of smoke. Legato discovers that and calls down thunderbolts from the sky to strike them. Those that miss the targets scatter among the ruined city, igniting more apocalyptic fire.

But as it glances around it feels a strong airstream rushing past its legs. Legato's body has become so massive that wind can barely deal any damage to it, but the strength has managed to attract its attention.

_Hiss…?_

From behind among the dense black curtain, a gust of grey wind is cutting apart the smoke coming to it. Legato quickly distinguishes a man holding a long broadsword.

_Grrrrrrrrrrr!_

In a blink, the man and his eight companions have closed in Legato as a woman and a boy use arrows and bullets to provide cover for the others, but the projectiles are all useless against Legato's armour-liked scales. Those using close-range weapons attack on its four giant legs. Legato stretches out its two arms and scratches down on the teenage boy, who does not dare using his sword to block and ducks away with his excellence reflection.

'It's way too big!'

This is – should it be called a monster? This thing is more like a mobile fortress. Possessing incompatible firepower and scales that can protect against all sorts of external attacks, even Jazz and Falsetto have no idea on how to defeat it. Compared to its size, the party is more like a group of mini figures. Challenging it is no difference from committing suicide.

There is not any part of the city that is not burning. Signs of massacre are everywhere.

_This is all done by Legato alone?_

Legato raises its front left leg and takes a step – one stride measuring at least ten metres. The incinerated buildings are crushed under its foot. Before the party can gather themselves up a swirling sphere of blue light is gathering in Legato's opened mouth. This time instead of flame, a blast of icy breath fires out, aiming straight at Viola and Beat.

'Look out!'

The two of them almost cannot have dodged it. The freezing gas fails to eliminates its targets and wipes across the city area far behind, turning everything into ice, which then breaks apart into powder under the extremely low temperature.

'My God…!'

Polka shivers at the overwhelming power. If Legato continues to attack like this, the city will be completely destroyed in a few minutes!

'Damn you… stop it!'

She hears Allegretto's bellowing furiously. Legato's talons hammers onto the ground. Razor-sharp earth pillars burst out directly from under the party's feet into the air. Salsa and March duck in a series of complex acrobatic leaps. The twins' lack in physical power is compensated by their quickness and lightness that for quite a while Legato cannot lock onto them, yet the two of them are already seen close to their limits.

'Everyone stands back!'

The party sees Frédéric has his baton wand pointing at Legato, and understands. True, facing such large target, magical attacks may be more effective.

'_Crimson Blaze_!'

A fire tower erupts from the ground and envelops Legato at the centre, up to its head. The size of the fire adjusts with the size of the target accordingly. Fitting Legato's massive body, the diameter of the fire pillar is also startling. The biggest advantage of _Crimson Blaze_ is that it can hit multiple enemies, and now that there is only one target all the power concentrates together. Everyone can almost feel how hot it is even this fire has no effect on allies. Staring at it this close it is more like a pillar made completely of lava.

Despite bathing in temperature equivalent to the sun's, Legato has not been burnt into ashes as the party has thought. There is not even a single scorch mark on its scales as the fire dies. Falsetto cannot help but gasps.

'Not even this?'

From the way it looks, even magical attacks have no effect on it. Coldness scurries up along Beat's spine.

At this moment, Legato's right arm stretches over Frédéric and crops down upon him. Gripping tightly on the wand Frédéric deals a quick _Coup de Grâce_ with all his might that deflects the huge arm away – even the supposed all-things-penetrable_Coup de Grâce_ is ineffectual against it. Had he not possessing magic power, that hit would have reaped his head off, yet the impact of the collision has already knocked off his balance. Legato's instinct tells it this is a chance too good to miss, and its left arm goes for a second hit.

'_Dimensional Cut_!'

The broad vacuum blade explodes upon contact with Legato's left wrist, but incapable of cutting through it. Jazz's timely attack has saved Frédéric, but what he has achieved is nothing more than diverting Legato's attention to him. His strength is declining with each second, in both physical and mental, but Legato's power on the contrary seems to become more and more overwhelming. Everyone cannot help but feel pessimistic with their situation.

_What do we have left to defeat it…?_

**Polonaise Op. 53**

**Heroic**

The word polonaise means "Polish". In other words, the hero Polonaise represents the greatness of Poland.

Chopin composed this piece in 1842 at the age of thirty-two, seven years before his death.

During this period, Chopin's tuberculosis flared up, and he was sometimes overcome by fierce coughing and forced into bed for weeks at a time.

It was amidst these difficulties that this great composition in praise of his homeland was born.

Majestic, strong, and proud.

Unabashedly bold.

The courage of his comrades who had bound together.

The unwavering faith of the Polish people.

The pride Chopin felt for the country of his birth could be expressed in no grander or more heroic music than this.

In central France about two hundred miles south of Paris, in the province of Berry, lies a village called Nohant.

The pastoral landscape that spreads across the land there resembled the village of Zelazowa Wola, where Chopin had been born.

When he left Mallorca and returned to France through Marseille, he was in very poor health. The atmosphere in Nohant gave him strength.

On the outskirts of Nohant there lay a mansion.

It was a relatively large stone building with a sparse outward appearance that was purchased by Marie-Aurore Dupin, George Sand's grandmother.

Chopin and Sand spent the summer in that mansion in Nohant.

Chopin was given a room on the second floor where he lived an idyllic life, never needing to worry about anything but his piano playing.

By this time he had become a celebrity known to all, and in Paris was kept busy with social parties, performances and lessons.

It was difficult for him to focus on composing while in Paris.

But he lived a contented life away from all that in Nohant with Sand and her family.

The power of Nohant temporarily staved off Chopin's terrible illness and revived the memories of his homeland.

And in that peaceful environment, he composed many famous pieces.

It was there that this masterpiece was born.

Perhaps it is a cumulation of the feelings that Chopin had for his homeland, but one can feel a kind of power and persuasiveness in this piece that is hard to imagine originating from a performance on a single piano.

It's almost as if one can feel the invisible power of the entire nation of Poland behind it.

If one ever wondered just how proud Chopin was of his home country, this piece answers that question eloquently.

Allegretto, Jazz and Falsetto elute through the streets of the Moon City, using the debris as cover. Legato launches attacks wave after wave, cutting out even more wounds on the remains of the already ruined streets. Earth, air, fire and water, all four primary elements turn into lethal weapons in its hands. Being created magically, Viola's _Blazing Strike_ and _Aqua Arrow_ have zero effect in cancelling their opposite elements. The only seemingly possible weak point of Legato is its four eyes, so high above that they are almost impossible for her or Beat to snipe.

_This never ends!_ – at that moment, Allegretto is almost hopeless.

Noticing Falsetto sneaking under its belly, Legato gathers energy around it and sends the blast directly downward, instantly resulting in a concave with a diameter of twenty metres. There is simply no blind spot where it cannot attack. Falsetto flunks sideway just before the wave lends on her head.

'This is no end! Beat, aim for its head!'

'I'll try!'

If it is its scales that make it unbreakable, what they can do is to attack areas not under its protection – eyes, and mouth cavity. Beat chooses a bullet with the most penetrating power, loads and fires when Legato is about to use its purgatory fire.

'GRRRRRRRRRR!'

The burning sensation inside the pharynx drives Legato into a state of berserk. Four eyes locked on no one other than Beat it swoops over him. The great arms crop down.

'Aaargh!'

'BEAT!'

Polka hurries over to where Beat lands. A terribly deep cut is made on his chest.

'Hold on! I'll heal you in no time!'

She kneels over Beat, puts her both hands over the wound Legato has made, muttering the incantation of _Earth Heal_. The flow of blood immediately stops. The rest of the party draws Legato's attention to them, buying her some time.

'Heh! I've never thought I'm gonna die here!'

'No matter what happens, I'll always be with you!'

_Salsa! March!_

'I don't have many arrows left!'

_Viola!_

'_Orzel Bialy_!'

_Frédéric!_

'I'll target its head, you distract it!'

'I'm going in!'

_Jazz! Falsetto!_

'Damn you filthy bastard!'

_Allegretto!_

_For so many times, I could only be protected by others._

_It's time I do what I can for them._

_I must save everyone!_

Beat sits up, fully restored.

'Thanks Polka, you saved me again… what's wrong?'

'Beat, please tell everyone to stay back. I'm going to stop it.'

'What?'

'It's the mineral powder that turned Legato into this monster. If I can reverse its effect I may bring him back.'

'Really? Can you do it?'

The truthful answer is 'I don't know', but everything worth a try.

'I'll do my best.' Polka acts her best to look fully confident. 'I'll be fine. Now go. Tell them don't let it see them no matter what.'

'Okay!'

Beat hurries off. The party soon gets her message, as Polka sees Frédéric releases a gas-like substance from his wand. The surroundings gradually fade away. Without long, everything seems to have disappeared, not only visibly but also audibly.

This is an auxiliary move of Frédéric's – _Mirage Blow_. The released magic mist can cause confusion of light and absorb sound waves, allowing the caster to be an 'invisible existence' while the target is trapped in the mirage.

The gigantic monster glances around, confused at what it sees. The time is ripe. Polka calls to it.

'Mr. Legato!'

Polka walks slowly towards it, the globe of jade green _Earth Heal_ glowing in her palms.

'Mr. Legato! It's me, Polka! Mr. Legato!'

That pair of big arms sweeps frantically at her, looking as though they are attempting to crush the approaching light spot – unsure whether it is due to the magic or not, none of the sweeps find their mark. Polka keeps calling at it, not even trying to protect herself.

'Don't lose to the mineral powder, Mr. Legato!'

The soul lost deep in the abyss hears that voice.

_Le – ga – to…_

These three syllables. Somehow, strangely, they sound familiar.

It can vaguely recall it hearing them before. There is a long string of memoires far away. This word is out there.

_Legato…_

_Yes… that's…. my name._

All those moments of his past flashes before him, how he studied politics hoping to change his country and how he entered the Forte government. That time he was like other new officials, young, full of hope and proud of his country.

A stream of warmth courses over Legato's body. At last he manages to break the control the mineral powder has on him.

Life at the Forte government is never easy. Like many others, soon he discovered the other side of the story – corruption, betrayal, murder, and secrets.

And they started to change him, for survival, for wealth, for fame.

Glancing around at the fire burning all over this city, Legato is shocked at what he has done.

_It's all because of me, because I drank that mineral powder?_

No matter what, the most important thing to do is to inform the Forte government to ban all mining activities on mineral powder and destroy it. As a politician he was a failure, but as a human being with clear conscience he had not stopped Waltz's evil deeds. At least, this may make some remedy on what he and Waltz have done…

It so happens that at this moment, a seriously burnt building nearby tilts and tumbles, right to where Polka stands. Polka, who has all her concentration on keeping her magic going, does not notice.

'Polka!'

Frédéric reacts fast and points his wand at the falling building, making it hoist just above her. The sudden shift of magic makes the effect of _Mirage Blow_ ceases immediately. Everything around Legato comes back. His eyesight falls upon the dangling building, then to what making it not falling.

…_!_

_That magic user! And Andantino!_

_Why are they here!_

_But didn't they say they let me go?_

_They lied to me… they're here to kill me!_

A black and murky feeling spreads from the bottom of his heart like tentacles. Everywhere they touch turn cold. His heart freezes again. His weak mentality is already over its limit, and finally collapses.

'Hiss… hiiiisssss…!'

The individual named Legato shatters into pieces. What left inside the monstrous body is only the instinct to kill as the mineral powder takes back control.

'Mr. Legato?'

For a moment Legato seems to have calmed down, but now it stiffly moves again.

'Mr. Legato!'

Polka calls again, perplexed.

She has thought it has heard her, and she has stopped it. From how it reacted just then her magic ought to have worked…!

'Please stop, Mr. Legato!'

Polka summons all her might to increase the power of her spell. However, she sees the ball of fire in the giant beast's mouth reaching the critical point. Polka holds her breath, consternated, unable to move.

'…!'

Polka can even not close her eyes, on the contrary she is spellbound by the burning light gradually overflowing Legato's mouth. In one more breath, the torrent of fire is going to scorch her…

A blue long-coat has shielded her eyesight.

Frédéric dashes to her front as a new magic-circle expands beneath him, composing of all the colours of every previous spell he has used. The moment the wand points at Legato it begins to feel something strange.

There is a string of strange wind chime sounds coming from nowhere, the almost done fire ball in its mouth instantly goes out. Legato attempts to conjure another one but somehow every drop of strength in its body seems to have been drained out. No longer having intelligence to help it think of the reasons behind it can only produce hissings of impatience and annoyance.

It starts to feel something weird in its body, like its inside suddenly being crushed – or rather, suddenly expands – Legato looks at its body, which is bursting exactly like this 'feeling'. It feels its inside coming up its throat, purple blood spurting out uncontrollably.

'Believe what you see and die! _Phantom Pain_!'

The body coated under the hardened scales bursts out in an instant. The force which causes the cell molecules to vigorously vibrate and destroys them, is radiating from Legato's internal to all directions, each time like a new galaxy being born in the universe. Explosions of starry lights in an instant spread before everyone's eyesight as thick dark vapour emits from the massive creature. Following a ear-splitting roar like some kind of moribund cry, Legato perishes into a great puff of purple smoke. It concentrates and turns into the shape of the same vortex.

March and Salsa approaches it.

'Another one?'

'Hey, does this mean we can get back to our world through this?'

Salsa is about to run into it when Frédéric halts her.

'Wait.'

He strides towards the vortex, reaching out his left hand seemingly examining it. Without saying another word he walks forward. Salsa is mildly exasperated.

'Now what? He's leaving us behind!'

'What should we do? Shall we follow him?' March asks.

'At least we can't stay here.' Jazz decides. 'Let's get out of here first!'

One by one Beat, Salsa, March, Polka, Allegretto, Viola and Falsetto step through the vortex portal, which vanishes after Jazz. For a moment they can see nothing but dark vapour, then they are on the other side, their own world.

But they are not at Mount Rock. It is not even anywhere in Forte or Baroque.


	8. Chapter 8 Heaven's Mirror

Finally finished. Sorry for this long. I had to think a lot about making the story more sense than the original cutscenes. It's been a long time, more than 2 years since I first started the first chapter. I would like to thank everyone who voted this as one of their favourite, and thank you for putting up with my poor writing (I'm not a native English user). Hope you all enjoy the final chapter. ^_^

CHAPTER VIII

HEAVEN'S MIRROR

The world beyond the portal is a mess. The ground is red and cracked like it has not seen a drop of rain in centuries. The only vegetation is an occasional thorny root or the skeletal remains of trees.

'Hey,' Beat looks around. The portal has already disappeared behind. 'Where are we?'

There is nothing that moves apart from them. Expected the portal to deliver them back to Mt. Rock, no one has the foggiest idea of this unfamiliar environment. Polka, however, notices a streetlamp beside her – it has become warped and twisted.

This lamp, this landscape… she knows she has seen them somewhere…

_It can't be…?_

'Mum? Where're you?'

Polka calls out loud, running along searching around. Viola is startled by her reaction.

'Polka, what's the matter? Do you know this place?'

'It's the field of flowers in Tenuto…'

It is Allegretto who answers. Everyone looks at him, who grimly watches Polka turns around running to locate where once her house was.

'… her home town.'

March claps her hands over her mouth. Falsetto glances at the surroundings, looking mortified.

'How can that be? This place is supposed to be a flower field?'

Not to say a flower field, this looks more than the aftermath of a war. A week or more ago Allegretto was even here himself when he came to see Polka. Gone are the flowers and blue sky, the sea is but an empty void, as if some kind of catastrophe or massacre has happened here.

'Your mother is save, Polka.' Frédéric says suddenly. 'So do all the villagers. This is _not_ Tenuto.'

Polka immediately turns back, looking shocked. Frédéric steps forward away from the party as he surveys the area.

'This is a parallel dimension of Tenuto I created. Tenuto is the place where it all began, where I met you, Polka, the place where this whole dream first started, which is why it's such a fitting place for the dream to come to an end.'

Everyone has not got the slightest idea why Frédéric says all this. Frédéric continues.

'I no longer have any doubt in my mind that, for me, that time has now come. I must make my choice now. Whatever happens, I'll face the challenge before me.'

He turns around, sweeping out an arm gesturing at the party.

'Don't you all understand? You're nothing more than imaginary characters I've created in my mind!'

Not only the eight of them, every tree, every rock, everything that exists in this word is merely an illusion in Frédéric's head. Ever since Polka, Allegretto and Beat has met him in Agogo Forest he has never been acting like this.

'Frédéric, what are you saying?' Beat asks. 'What's wrong with you?'

'We all have our individual thoughts.' Allegretto protests. 'We're not acting out a role in a story that somebody wrote. We've been using our own free will and judgement to act for ourselves!'

Frédéric chooses to ignore them.

'I can feel it, my life force of my physical body is fading, all because I'm convinced that this dream is the reality more and more. The moment I admit you all, I will die in the real world, but when I am defeated, an undeniable truth will be revealed, and this fleeting dream will slowly fill with colour and light.

Polka can tell from Frédéric's eyes, that he is absolutely serious.

'So then, is this the path you've chosen for yourself?'

'It is. This is my dream, and I must be the one to set things right.' Iron-hard determination radiates from him. 'This world we're in, and you, Polka, must be freed from the tangle of our twisted destinies.'

Polka lowers her head at the word. Frédéric's eyes sweep across the whole party.

'Now, let the test begin. We'll see which side is stronger, my creations in my dream or my own spirit.'

He draws out his baton wand, standing in a ready position.

'We'll see whether I'm truly such a weak human being!'

Salsa is the first one to leap out. She confronts him head-on.

'I'll be perfectly polite when I send you flying!'

Suddenly, it is like there is a flicker of something deep blue, as if Frédéric has slightly moved, only to see Salsa's Solar Rings clanged as she dropped them, mouth opened wide, then falls facedown. Her fall happens only in a blink, but skilled warriors like Jazz and Falsetto have clearly seen what exactly happened – there are four tiny red spots on Salsa's forehead, temples and philtrum. Blood is slowly permeating out, apparently punctured by Frédéric's baton wand.

'Salsa!'

March runs forward and bends over her sister, eyes widened in shock, but moves no more.

'How pitiful, you soulless creature.'

Frédéric lowers his wand as he glances at March crying over her twin sister's body. The party steps back in fear. Allegretto pulls Polka behind as he shields in front of her. The entire wasteland becomes dead silent, no one dares making a sound. Frédéric's attack just then was like thunder, like lightning, without any sign to predict. No one could see him raise his hand, and to think he even managed to deal four blows in one row.

Allegretto has his violin-sword pointing at Frédéric's chest, deciding that he is going to attack as soon as there is any tiny movement on Frédéric's limbs. Only when he strikes first that he can have the faintest chance. Once Frédéric has the initial, there will be another one following Salsa's fate. Jazz, Falsetto and Viola also stares at him without moving their eyes away.

The blue shadow flickers again, wand directs at Allegretto in great speed. Noticing Frédéric's wand-arm rising, without thinking Allegretto stabs at his throat. If Frédéric does not retreat, the sword will instantly pierce through his pharynx. However at this moment, Allegretto feels a soft pain on his left forehead, then his sword is deflected to the left.

It turns out that the rapidness of Frédéric's strikes is really beyond imagining. In that blinking flash of moment, he has already pricked Allegretto's forehead, then withdrew his arm and used his wand to flick off the sword. It was fortunate that Allegretto's attack was also extremely fast, such that Frédéric has not pricked accurately at his temple.

Stunned, Allegretto realizes that there will absolutely be no chance to survive once he holds back. Grabbing his sword in both hands he immediately deals eight slashes, all aiming at the vital parts of the opponent's body. The first six hits are relatively speedy and light, with the most powerful two hits come last. In this critical moment, the speed of _Starlight Flash_ is even doubled than before.

Frédéric is not impressed.

'Naïve!'

Right, left, up, centre, down, centre, right, right, all the eight slashes are blocked in the most casual manner. This wand, under Frédéric's control as Allegretto sees it, does not seem to leave any weak point. At this stage, even _Starlight Flash_ has no effect at all. In order to confuse enemies, the combination of the eight slashes is random each time, so every time it is new to Allegretto himself as well as the opponent, yet Frédéric still managed to counter them all at ease. Up till now, Frédéric has even not used any magical move – in another word he has still not unleashed his full power.

'Stay adrift in the boundaries of nothingless! _Void Edge_!'

Right foot kicks on the ground, Allegretto flies up as he holds the sword behind his head and chops down straight onto Frédéric's face. Combined with the ascending speed gained through gravity, this move can even slice granite apart if it is delivered in full force, only to see Frédéric holds his wand horizontally and raises it upward. The incoming sword is intercepted, unable to go down any further.

Allegretto feels his arm slightly numbed. From where the blue shadow flickers, something glowing is jabbing towards his left chest. There is no time for him to either block or duck. In the desperate moment, Allegretto also directs his sword towards Frédéric's heart – either both live, or both die. As he feels a small pain on his chest, Frédéric has already leaped away and dodged his attack.

That light cannot be mistaken, Allegretto is a hundred percent sure that the move Frédéric used was _Coup de Grâce_. If it had not been that Frédéric had to dodge his sword such that the wand tip had not tabbed him yet, he would now have an extra hole through his chest. Shocked and scared, Allegretto wields his sword in endless chains of _Starlight Flash_ like mad, never allowing Frédéric any chance to counterattack. Frédéric even has the leisure to sneer 'Is that all you've got?' as he blocks every incoming sword-attack in an almost lazy manner.

'Hold on, Allegretto! We're coming!'

Jazz, Falsetto and Viola join in the battlefield. Holding the baton wand with three fingers Frédéric handle the violin-sword, the broadsword, the gauntlets and the bow altogether at the same time, advancing and retreating among the four of them in monstrous speed, with no sign of losing can be seen. Beat and March draw their weapons to help out, making it a duel of six-on-one.

'You foolish creatures!'

Much in the manner of Fugue's _J'accuse_, Frédéric makes an outward slash with his baton wand.

_Carry them away to the waterside, to the river's edge!_

'_Nimbostratus_!'

An azure current streams out. This is the first time the party sees Frédéric using it, but understands instantly that this new move is derived from _Coup de Jârnac_, differenced by making the energy stream travelling forward instead of backward. Before Beat and March can react, the stream has swallowed their bodies.

'WAAAARRRGGGHHH –!'

The clarinet-riffle and Lunar Rings falls onto the ground. Their owners roll away in summersaults as the current sweeps them away from the battlefield. They never feel the pain as they fell onto the ground.

'BEAT! MARCH!'

'You murderer! You're gonna pay for it!'

Enraged, Falsetto enters half Burst as she springs out her elbow-blades, fiercely targeting all the vital parts of Frédéric. Even so, the battle side is merely brought to stalemate combined with the attacks of Jazz and Allegretto. Seeing that Frédéric cannot spare time to pay attention to herself, Viola fires several stealthy shots through the free space among the trio's formation, but Frédéric's shadow is as quick as ghosts and phantoms, flying and floating around like thin smoke. Her arrows are always a few inches missing his body.

_This entire world is _my_ dream! I will not let you destroy it!_

'There's no one else, I'm the only one here!'

Illuminating under his feet is a black magic-circle, vast and seemingly bottomless that it is like a black hole trying to suck everything in. Above the battlefield thick dark clouds cover the entire sky as though night has decided to come early. Thunder roars, heavy rain vigorously hit onto the desolate land, as though thousands of invisible hands are simultaneously applauding for this decisive duel, unknown to Forte, Baroque, Andantino, Tenuto, Ritardando and anyone living inside the dream. Ferocious wind splatters rain onto everyone's face. The iron-grey sky reflects their battle spirits. Lightning crawls among the dark clouds like dragons.

'_Applaudisement Sonique_!'

The evolved version of _Legion Fulminante_, multiple lightning bolts down from the sky to anything except from Frédéric. Areas upon impact are instantly ablaze, and are cooled down by the thick rain right away, leaving charcoal black burnt mark behind. Fully utilizing every reflective nerve, Allegretto, Jazz, Falsetto and Viola handles Frédéric and the lethal lightning that aims at their brain. Travelling at the speed of light, the bolts come down as soon as they flash. The only way to raise the chance of survival is to move around without a tiny moment staying on the same spot. Viola is soaked to her skin and bone, hardly able to distinguish the blurred figures of her comrades and her enemy. Her bow string is wet into its core that it is not suitable for firing arrows anymore, apart from that pulling an arrow will considerably slow her down, making her an easy target for the lightning overhead.

She hears a small cry of pain from Allegretto. Without long Falsetto also growls in gritted teeth – the two of them are injured by Frédéric's wand. It is so small that it is very difficult to see and block. A moment later, even Jazz has got a cut on his wrist. Both _Dimensional Cut_ and _Whirlwind_ require large open area to be performed or nearby allies will also be dragged into the waves. While Allegretto and Falsetto are that close to Frédéric, there is no way he can use either one of the two moves.

Even when the six of them chained attacks on Frédéric, none of them could touch any bit of his long coat while all of them have received injuries of different level. Polka's worry grows as she observes the battle goes.

Not before long an 'argh!' also comes from Viola as her throat bleeds. Fortunately at that point Allegretto was about to use _Shadow Assault_ from behind, Frédéric's attention was drawn away that he had no time to put magic onto the wand. The duel has been going barely longer than a few minutes, but to Polka every second is like a year. Barely recovered from the battle against Legato, everyone's physical and mental strength is close to the edge of collapsing, while Frédéric's shadow is on the contrary spinning faster and faster. Allegretto, Jazz, Falsetto and Viola shout out hoarse, their voice full of anger and fear. Jazz and Falsetto have both entered full Burst, their each strike emitting loud sound of wind. Frédéric however does not emit any sound.

Polka tries to use _Earth Heal_ on Salsa, Beat and March.

_No! Don't die!_

But no matter how many times that green light illuminates they remain stiff and lifeless.

_Open your eyes!_

Healing spells restore life force but cannot give life. They only work on living creatures.

_I don't want anyone to die anymore!_

_PLEASE! WAKE UP!_

At this time, Frédéric suddenly senses a powerful wave of magic. All the thunders and rain stop as the dark clouds clear. _Applaudisement Sonique_, his strongest move so far, is countered by another magic – one that is even more powerful than he, the master of this dream, can do.

_Impossible! Who?_

But he thinks he knows. Surely there is only one person here other than him who can do magic.

He catches a glimpse of Polka, who is surrounded by golden-yellow light instead of green. Showers of blossoms magically blow from the sky. Not only the external wounds of Beat, March and Salsa are healing in an amazing speed, but their bodies are stirring as lives are returning to them again.

_Revive spell?_

If she can now even raise the dead, this battle will be endless!

_I'll kill you first!_

A shadow of deep blue pounces at Polka, who screams and quickly gets down, not even sure whether she can really dodge his strike. Jazz's broadsword and Allegretto's violin-sword dart at Frédéric's back. Viola releases an arrow pass them at Frédéric's head, but he deflects it with a backhand. In a blink it is less than four feet between him and Polka. Determined, Frédéric is about to stab through her throat, but the moment his eyes meeting hers, the same way Emilia once looked at him, an unexplainable pain suddenly aches in his heart.

_She's not your sister, kill her!_

But those eyes, they look so alike Emilia's...

The two voices battle in Frédéric's brain.

_Emilia is dead!_

But this is my dream!

_Polka is nothing more than Emilia's shadow!_

What if Polka really is Emilia?

_Do it!_

I… I can't…!

This brief moment of hesitation, is absolutely more than enough to turn the side of the battle!

Frédéric's wand-arm is raised, but can no longer drive it down to her. At the same time the blades of Jazz, Falsetto and Allegretto all stab into Frédéric's back. Blood gushes out.

_I lost._

Strangely, on the contrary he does not feel bad about it. This is perhaps better. How can he face Emilia? Can he really tell her that he killed them all in order to live?

Yes, this is for the best, perhaps. If anyone has to die, it should be him alone.

_Dear Emilia…_

The pain is so strong that it consumes him. With a last calm smile, he fell.

Grieved, hurt, angered, puzzled, for a very long moment, the party looks at the body of their once companion and comrade.

How has it come to this? And why?

They have once travelled and supported together, closer than any others. In their jouney together, Frédéric has proved himself a very reliable partner and valuable ally. For his believes, for those whom he regards as friends, for Polka, he was willing to do anything with his utmost effort.

But now, this friendship and mutual trust has died, died with and thier killing him with their own hands. The time Frédéric had with them was never long, but all those moments they fought and supported each other makes everyone feel that they have suddenly lost a life-long best friend.

Slowly, Polka walks to the fallen musician. Blood is still coming out from his wounds ,but the smile on that face is yet so peaceful, and alive, as if having a good dream in his sleep.

She is sure that Frédéric meant to kill her just then, but at the last moment he hesitated, and had he not hesitated he would not have been injured. No matter what, she is alive because Fredeic spared her life, even though that was a decision he made in the last second.

'Thank you, Frédéric.'

Her hand glows as it touches the bleeding wound, which immediately begins to heal. She can feel life still pounding inside the body. The green light in her hand vanishes.

_That's the least I can do._

'I'm sorry.'

The party has already found it strange for Polka to try to heal someone who wanted her life. They are even more surprised when she starts to walk towards the edge of the precipice ahead.

'Polka?'

'Stay back.'

Allegretto does not know how to discribe it. Somehow the familiar voice of hers has suddenly become different. There is something more, like an authority that makes him does not dare disobey.

'Everyone, I'm sorry. Whatever you are going to see, I hope all of you can stay calm.'

A sense of dread rises in Allegretto's heart – this scene of Polka standing dangerously at the edge of a cliff, overlaps with the strange image he experienced that night in Tenuto!

'Polka, what are you doing?' March asks. 'First Frédéric and now you? What in the world is going on?'

'I've remembered everything.' Polka smiles gently at her. 'I now know the path that I have to take.'

'What the heck're you sayin?' Salsa asks, confused. 'Can somebody please explain to me what's going on?'

'Polka,' Viola says, 'what exactly is it that you're planning on doing?'

'Don't you see? Frédéric is right. All of us, this whole world we live in, are all created by him. Frédéric was born in the city of Warsaw in the country of Poland in the year 1810. This is a dream he's experiencing as he drifts over the abyss of death. He once had a sister, but she died of tuberculosis when she was fourteen.'

This is all unknown to the party as Frédéric had only mentioned this to her while they were alone on Baroque Ship. Besides, Frédéric has never talked about his family or his past to them, but the most shocking part has not come yet.

'In fact, I am the incarnation of his sister Emilia. My responsibility is to keep this dream ever looping. Emilia died at fourteen, and that's why I can never go beyond fourteen as well. When I go into the sea I will reborn, and this dream will repeat from the beginning once again.'

Polka forces a bitter smile to the shocked and perplexed expressions on the party's faces. It is certainly difficult for them to intake all these so suddenly, but time is short. Frédéric's physical life depends solely on her. She must not let him die.

'If I had any choice in the matter, I'd never want to give up those memories of this journey and the time we've spent together. I know this is hard for you to accept right now, but someday… someday we will all meet again. I'm absolutely positive.'

She feels hot tears in her eyes.

'I must do this. I know our journey didn't last very long, but really, this was the best time I've ever had in my life.'

Fear and dread flooded Allegretto's heart, like all his blood has frozen. He dashed towards the cliff.

_Polka –!_

Allegretto desperately reaches out his fingers. Polka's face becomes clearer and clearer. Her balance starts to fall back – the nightmarish memory of that strange vision he had that night in Tenuto flashed before his eyes.

_No – Please NO –!_

The next second, Polka has already vanished. The last thing Allegretto sees about her is her braises disappearing under the thick mist below the cliff.

– _Everyone._

Wind rushes past her ears as she freefalls.

_Thank you, everyone. I know it didn't last very long, but really, this was the best time I've ever had in my life._

This is the end. This life she has lived it straight.

There is no regret.

– _Allegretto…_

He must be hammering the ground, blaming his unable to do anything for her at the moment. She feels sorry for him, but this is her fate.

Darkness has consumed her, but her thoughts remained.

– _My feelings… will protect you forever –_

'…'s nothing you can do, Allegretto. Don't blame yourself.'

'Why couldn't I do anything? Why did her have to suffer? What did she ever do to deserve that?'

'Retto…'

'Damn it! Damn it! DAMN IT…! You! You come barging into our world without asking, and now you leave just because you feel like it! This is your dream, right! If it's your dream then do something!'

'He's dead, Allegretto. Polka wouldn't have wanted to see you like this.'

'Please… you have to do something… please…'

Someone is seizing him, pushing him very hard. He knows that voice, only that it is filled with despair.

_Where am I?_

He can smell dry soil beneath his cheek. The places where he was stabbed in are aching burningly that he cannot move, but the sensation of liquid flowing out his body has stopped.

_Does this mean… I'm still in Tenuto? But why?_

It is Polka's death and rebirth that keep the dream looping. The dream should have ended the moment he was defeated. Now that it is continuing that means…

–_!_

_No, it can't be!_

_Polka…!_

The pain he feels in his heart, is even greater than the physical pain on his body.

That was the first and only chance she had to escape her destiny. She could have been free from her eternal suffering had she just left him be. She was only fourteen years old. Her journey of life had hardly begun.

But she did not. She chose to die again, and this was all for him!

Tears run down his cheek, onto the ground.

The last time he actually cried, was when Emilia died.

There was nothing he could do in the real world, but in this world of his, there is one thing at least he can do. Or rather, something that he has always been wanting to do, no matter what.

_I won't let you die, Polka._

He remembered the conversation he had with Polka in Heaven's Mirror Forest.

_You said it was up to me whether I wanted to call them heaven's mirror or death lights._

_When the sun is out, they hide in their buds, and open their blossoms only when it is truly important._

_Drawing in even the faintest among of light, they embody it, and in doing so reflect something that people can never see._

_They wait for the moment when the world is trapped in darkness, and then blossom with glowing light. On the grassy plain, they paint a picture of the star-filled night sky._

_I'm still allowed to choose, am I not?_

_I shall make my definitive choice right now._

_I choose to call it, Heaven's Mirror!_

'I know it's hard on you, Allegretto, Beat,' says Jazz, 'but we must leave.'

Reluctantly, Beat wipes his tears off his sleeves, and got up. Allegretto does not move though.

'The best tribute to the dead is to live on, and I'm sure Polka would want you to live happily for her.' Jazz says. 'Come on, get up.'

His senses know he has to let go, but his emotions do not want to accept it. Nevertheless, Allegretto does not try to resist as Falsetto helps him at his feet. With a short final look at the body of Frédéric, the party starts making their way inland.

'I choose to call it…'

The voice does not come from behind or anyway. It is like it goes straight into everyone's head. However, this voice cannot be mistaken…

_Frédéric?_

The party stops and looks back. The musician's body remains still. Then it sounds again.

'Heaven's… Mirror…!'

The voice fades. The party looks around; everything around is dissolving as though they are made of smoke; the world is fading, they can see only their own bodies, all else is swirling darkness…

And then, the world returns.

It is a familiar scene.

There are flowers, seeming to blossom almost everywhere. They paint the landscape with colour as far as the eye can see. Trees and grass becomes green once more. The bright sun shines upon the blue sky and sea. From the hill that overlooks the coastline, Allegretto and Beat can make out the vague outline of a town offshore – their hometown Ritardano.

Only Allegretto knows what this means. They are in the flower field of Tenuto Village.

The two dimensions of Tenuto have combined.

They are back.

Someone is among the flower field. A young girl, whose blonde hair tied into two long braises at waist length.

'Polka!'

There is no other word to describe how Allegretto and Beat feels when they see her. Before Polka knows, she finds herself being flung around by the two of them.

'Thank goodness you're alright! Thank goodness!'

Polka looks awkward by their reactions, but she nevertheless gently pats on their back.

It's over.

It's finally over.

'Thanks for worrying about me, Allegretto, Beat, everyone.'

Except –

'Where's Frédéric?'

'Huh?'

'It's him who brings me back. I must thank him. Where's he?'

The party glances at where the fallen magic user lied. It is not exactly easy

'He's no here! The body's gone!'

'You mean,' Salsa panics, 'he's become a ghost?'

'Such things don't exist,' Jazz replies, 'this means Frédéric must be alive. Look around, he ought to be here.'

Polka watches the party spread and started to look around, calling for him. She finally can't help it, and sobs in silence.

Other people may not understand, but she knows, somehow. She can tell, that she is never going to see Frédéric again.

A cool breeze passes by. Petals of the whole flower field dance in the air. Tiny waves stir on the surface of a small puddle…

October 17, 1849 1:59 AM

No. 12 Vendôme Place

Paris, France

_Tick – tock – tick – tock – …_

Frédéric was awake, but he kept his eyes shut. He could tell he was lying on his bed.

_It was a dream_. He told himself. _I dreamt I journeyed through a stunningly beautiful world. I happened to make the acquaintance of Polka, a young girl that was forced to give up her life at the age of fourteen. I gave up my life in the dream so that she could live on._

It was such a great dream.

_Dong! Dong!_

The grandfather clock stroke twice. It was two o'clock.

_Alright, I'm getting up._

Frédéric opened his eyes. Standing beside his bed examining his eyes was an old man in white coat. At the end of the bed, Ludwika was looking anxiously at him. Frédéric remembered that this man was the doctor his elder sister fetched when he suddenly collapsed on the piano earlier this day.

The pain in his chest was gone. He did not feel coughing anymore. He was actually feeling better than ever. Strangely, the doctor did not seem to notice his awoken, instead his expression was a mix of grieve and disappointment. How come?

Frédéric got up from his bed. To his surprise, he saw himself wearing exactly the blue long coat he always wore in his dream. He quickly took a look at his both hands – vapour-like, semi-transparent.

–_!_

He looked behind. Lying on the bed was another him, physically solid, pale, looking fast asleep, but no longer drew breath.

The doctor, letting out a long sigh, checked the time on the grandfather clock.

'Mr. Chopin's time of death, two o'clock in the morning.'

_So it's true then._

_I'm dead._

Ludwika's tiny hope for her younger brother's recovery finally shattered. Frédéric watched her face in her hands, shaking with sobs. He really wanted to go and comfort her, but he knew they would not know even if he did so. The doctor made suggestions of funeral affairs as he started to pack his things when Ludwika, eyes very red and tears still running down her face, insisted to see him off at the door.

'No, no… I'm alright. Thank you, doctor. This way…'

As Luwidka closed the door after herself, Frédéric's soul was the only one left in the room.

Frédéric could not help but feel sorry for her sister. Not only them, his students, his friends, and everyone who loved his music, would surely feel lost upon hearing his death the coming morning. Without them, he could never have come to this day.

And certainly, without Emilia, he would not have dreamt a world as fibre and alive as this one was, allowing him to made a choice that took him quite a while to make it.

How he wanted to play something for them, to show his gratitude.

Frédéric strolled to the grand piano, and sat down in front of it. Looking at the consecutive black and white keys, he thought this was the most beautiful pattern in the world ever. Inspiration flooded into his mind. Frédéric raised his wrists, closed his eyes, took a breath, and lowered his fingers onto the keyboard.

If there can only be one world that he believed in, that world should definitely be the piano. Moving ever onward, a world that he truly belonged in.

All notes of the past disappeared from his mind, as if swallowed up by the darkness. In contrast, the notes that were going to be played in the future were as clearly as bells inside of his mind.

_Emilia, I have never once forgotten you, not at all the time that you've been gone_.

_Whenever I spoke with Polka, it was as if you were with me again._

_Polka was someone who insisted on walking her own path, until the very end. Emilia, she lived just as you would have, if you could be given the chance to do so._

His mind flew back to the night when he first met her in Tenuto Village.

_I would depart the reality where you and I composed memories together, and make the world of dreams where Polka lived my reality._

_I hope my choice does not bring you pain. You must know that I would never forget you, after all._

This was not just for Emilia, but for Ludwika as well.

_Yes, for even though my form may change, this feeling is something that will never fade away._

The moment he opened his eyes he saw countless flowers bloomed in union, sparkling and glowing all over the field.

He was in the Heaven's Mirror Forest – he was back in his dream.

The piano he was still playing, the melody he was now hearing, the unearthly beauty of the scenery he saw, echoing to the eyes, brilliant to the ears, sweet to the touch. Yes, believe, above all else, proves existence.

He no longer had to worry about maintaining his living, nor had to compose music to please others. There was unlimited time ahead of him, and there were lots of melodies he wanted to play and compose.

Besides, he wants to see how everyone is going on.

With Waltz's death, the price level of necessities in Ritardando should be back to normal. Allegretto and Beat should now be able to lead a normal life…

Is Viola back at her home in Chorus Plains?

Agogo Village is finally free from the mining activity of Mt. Rock. Salsa and March should be happier than any others…

He wonders what Jazz and Falsetto will do next now that the mission of Andantino is complete. The role of civilian does not seem to fit the two of them. Joining the Baroque army sounds the perfect choice for them…

As for Polka, without mineral powder, sales of floral powder will likely be better. Besides, she is finally free from her fate, and is allowed to do whatever she wants. Perhaps after this piece, he can pay a visit to her and her mother…

But for this moment, Frédéric allows himself to put all thoughts aside, and immerses himself in the world of music where all the notes carried away by the soothing breeze far, far away.

Fin


End file.
